Chapter 12 - Blood in the Depths
The suppressed gunshot inside the enclosed vault sounded like the violent crack of a whip.
The bullet struck the heavy steel doorframe an inch from Evelyn’s cheek, sending a shower of sparks across her scarred face. Evelyn fired back simultaneously.
Her first round caught Miller in the right shoulder, spinning the agent around with a sharp grunt of pain. The Glock flew from Miller’s grip, clattering under the inspection table. Miller stumbled, hitting the bank of safety deposit boxes, but before she could draw a backup piece from her ankle holster, Evelyn crossed the threshold with terrifying speed.
Evelyn slammed Miller against the metal lockers, pressing the warm barrel of the Walther directly under the agent's chin.
Miller gasped, her breathing ragged, blood soaking her crisp white collar. Yet, even with cold steel pressed into her jaw, a vicious smirk touched her lips. “You’re too late, Evelyn… the transfer protocol was initiated an hour ago. The transport team at Blackwood… they’ve already received the kill order.”
Evelyn’s violet eyes narrowed. “Where is she?”
“Go to hell,” Miller spat, blood flecking her teeth.
Evelyn didn't waste a word. She shifted the barrel two inches down and fired into Miller’s thigh.
Miller shrieked, collapsing to her knees, her hands clutching her shattered femur.
“Where is my mother, Miller?” Evelyn asked again, her voice entirely flat, entirely detached from human mercy. “The next one goes into your liver. It takes thirty minutes to die from a perforated liver. The guards outside are already disarmed. Nobody is coming down here to save you.”
Miller trembled violently, the pain breaking through her professional conditioning. “Building C… the sub-level laboratory beneath the old abbey on Lough Erne… they’re moving her to a secure offshore platform in the North Sea at midnight! If you aren't there by dusk, she dies!”
Evelyn stared down at the groaning agent for one cold second. Then, with a swift, brutal flick of her wrist, she brought the heavy butt of the pistol down across Miller’s temple.
The agent slumped forward onto the blood-slicked tile, unconscious.
Silence returned to the vault, heavy and thick with the smell of gunpowder and copper.
Victoria stood frozen against the wall, staring at the scarred woman who looked only marginally like the sister she had grown up with. The pristine beauty was gone, replaced by an iron-willed wraith carved out of fire and vengeance.
“Evelyn…” Victoria breathed, her voice cracking.
Evelyn lowered the gun. For the first time, the cold brutality in her eyes cracked, revealing a deep, bottomless exhaustion.
“You shouldn't have opened the vault, Tori,” Evelyn said softly, her scarred hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face. “You should have stayed in New York. You could have lived a normal life.”
“With the money from my mother’s blood?” Victoria stepped over the fallen banker, stepping straight toward her sister. She didn't flinch at the scars, nor the blood on Evelyn’s clothes. She reached out and wrapped her arms tightly around Evelyn’s trembling frame. “I’m not letting you fight this alone. Not again.”
May you like
Evelyn froze, her body rigid, unused to warmth or human touch for three agonizing years. But slowly, her head dropped onto Victoria’s shoulder, a single ragged sob tearing through her chest.
“We have eight hours,” Evelyn whispered, pulling back and wiping her eyes with the back of her bloody hand. “Eight hours to reach Northern Ireland before they execute her.”
