Chapter 11 - The Iron Defense
""Move!"" Christian roared, lunging forward and tackling Elena to the ground behind a massive reinforced concrete pillar just as the pickup truck collided with Victoria's sports car. The metal screamed, shattering glass raining down in an explosive spray.
Victoria shrieked, diving out of the way as two armed men in tactical gear jumped from the truck bed, assault rifles raised. They weren't street thugs; their movements were disciplined, ruthless—private military contractors hired by Marcus Sterling.
Christian drew his weapon, firing around the pillar with lethal accuracy. The lead shooter dropped instantly. Elena pressed her back against the concrete, her ears ringing from the deafening gunshots indoors. She clutched the pistol Christian had given her, her hands surprisingly steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.
The second shooter began suppressing Christian's position with automatic fire, chipping chunks of concrete that showered their hair. Christian emptied his magazine, forced to reload. The shooter advanced, his heavy boots clicking rhythmically.
Elena saw the shooter’s shadow stretch across the floor, his barrel turning toward Christian’s exposed flank. Without thinking, she leaned out, raised her gun with both hands, and squeezed the trigger.
The bullet struck the man’s leg, sending him crashing to his knees with a roar of pain. In that split second, Christian leaned out and neutralized him permanently.
The garage fell dead silent, save for the hum of the overhead lights and Victoria’s terrified sobbing beneath a shattered windshield. Christian looked down at Elena, a faint, dangerous smile playing on his lips.
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""Good shot, Mrs. Vance,"" he said quietly.
He walked over to Victoria, picked up the dropped briefcase, and hauled her to her feet by her collar. ""You're going to make a speech at the board meeting, Victoria. And you will not stutter.""
