Chapter 7 - Iron Under Fire
""Julian!"" Eleanor screamed from beneath her table. ""Shut up! You're drawing his fire!""
Julian groaned, clutching his leg as blood seeped through his charcoal trousers. Another bullet tore through the plaster just inches above his shoulder, blowing out a decorative molding that rained white powder over his head.
""We can't leave him there,"" Clara said, shifting her weight to prepare to crawl.
""Judge, no! You are the primary target!"" Miller ordered, grabbing her arm. ""That shooter isn't here for Sterling. He’s here to make sure you never sign that warrant!""
""If Julian dies, the federal conspiracy case dies with him,"" Clara retorted, her voice hard as steel. ""He is the key witness to twenty years of institutional corruption. Hold your fire, Miller. Cover the window if you can.""
Before the marshal could protest, Clara kicked off her high heels. In her stocking feet, she scrambled on her hands and knees across the glass-covered hardwood floor, her judicial robe dragging behind her like an ink-stained cloak. A jagged piece of glass bit into her left palm, but she didn't even flinch. Adrenaline burned out the pain, replacing it with sheer, cold focus.
She reached Julian, grabbing him by the collar of his suit jacket with both hands. ""Move your legs, Julian! Crawl, or I will leave you here to bleed out!""
Julian looked up through tears of agony and terror, seeing the bloody gash on Clara’s face and the terrifying determination in her slate-gray eyes. ""I can't... my leg...""
""Move!"" Clara hauled him backward with surprising strength, dragging him across the slick mahogany floor into the blind spot beneath the jury box just as a heavy slug obliterated the floorboards where he had been lying.
Eleanor watched from beneath her table, her eyes filled with hollow horror. The woman she had tried to ruin, the judge she had attempted to assassinate, was dragging her treacherous lawyer to safety.
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""The tunnel, Judge,"" Miller shouted from the bench, returning fire through the broken window with three deafening pops of his Glock. ""The SWAT team is entering the tower! We have thirty seconds!""
Cliffhanger: Clara reached the hidden mahogany door behind the bench, entered the keycode, and yanked it open—only to find the barrel of a pistol staring her straight in the face.
