Chapter 7 - A Father’s Wrath
Dante screamed in shock and agony as the little girl’s teeth sank deep into his flesh. His grip loosened instinctively, and his finger convulsed, sending a stray bullet ricocheting off the iron bulkhead behind him.
That microsecond of distraction was all Nikolai required.
He surged up the gangway with explosive velocity. He didn't fire his weapon—the risk of hitting Sofia in the tight corridor of the ship’s gangway was too great. Instead, he closed the distance like a pouncing beast, slamming his entire weight into Dante. The impact knocked the traitorous lieutenant back through the ship's hatch, sending his rifle clattering down the steep iron stairs into the freighter’s dark hold.
Sofia tumbled onto the gangway platform, weeping uncontrollably.
""Inside the container, Sofia! Hide!"" Nikolai roared without looking back, his attention locked entirely on the man attempting to butcher his family.
Dante rolled to his feet inside the narrow steel companionway, drawing a long tactical blade from his boot. His face was drenched in blood and rain, his eyes wild with the madness of a cornered dog. ""You think you can save her? Look at you, Nikolai! The mighty Don, clawing through the mud for a weak little girl!""
Nikolai stepped across the threshold into the belly of the freighter, kicking the heavy watertight door shut behind him and spinning the manual wheel lock. The heavy clack of iron echoed like the sealing of a tomb.
""You took the only pure thing left in my life,"" Nikolai spoke, his voice dropping into a register of terrifying calm. ""For that, death is far too generous.""
Dante lunged forward, executing a vicious, trained slash aimed at Nikolai’s throat. Nikolai didn’t retreat. He leaned his head slightly back, the razor-sharp edge missing his skin by millimeters, before driving his elbow into Dante’s ribs with bone-shattering force. Dante gasped, the breath driven violently from his lungs, but he spun and swung the knife backhand.
The blade sliced through Nikolai’s black sweater, drawing a crimson line across his forearm. Nikolai didn’t even flinch. Pain was nothing; focus was absolute. He trapped Dante’s knife wrist with his bleeding hand, twisting the joint outward with enough raw torque to rip the tendons. The knife clattered harmlessly to the steel deck.
With a primal roar, Nikolai slammed Dante against the bulkheads, driving fist after heavy, tattooed fist into his former lieutenant's face until cartilage and teeth gave way.
Dante slumped against the wall, battered, broken, and gasping for air through a ruined face. ""Go ahead..."" he spat, a mouthful of dark blood staining Nikolai’s boots. ""Kill me. But you’re too late. Vanessa already set the charges.""
May you like
Nikolai froze, his hand paused mid-strike.
""The ship,"" Dante choked out with a mangled grin. ""It’s not an escape boat. It’s a floating bomb. And your little girl is sitting right on top of the hull.""
