Chapter 9 - Crossfire in the Kitchen
The suppressed submachine gun spat two rhythmic rounds into the night air. The shooter on the patio stiffened abruptly, his weapon slipping from his gloved fingers before he pitched forward across the shattered threshold, his body collapsing directly onto the scattered pills and glass.
Inside the kitchen, Frank fired wildly toward the open patio doors, mistaking the muzzle flash for another Thorne operative. Plaster exploded around the doorframe as his hollow-point rounds chewed through the trim. ""Stay down, Martha!"" he roared, frantically jamming a fresh magazine into his Glock. His hands were slick with his own blood, the slide racking back with an oily metallic scrape.
Elena didn't hesitate. She stepped through the shattered glass of the patio doors, stepping directly over the fallen gunman. The smell of cordite and bitter almonds hung thick in the warm, stagnant air of the home. Martha was huddled under the dining table, clutching her cardigan around her bruised chest, her face white with horror as she looked up and saw Elena holding the military-grade weapon.
""Elena... please,"" Martha whimpered, her former cold authority dissolving into pathetic, shuddering desperation. ""You don't understand what we did for you. We kept you hidden. The money... the Thorne family put a five-million-dollar bounty on your head. We kept you alive!""
Frank spun around from behind the island, his gun rising instantly toward Elena. But before his finger could find the trigger, Elena fired a single, calculated burst. The round struck Frank’s right shoulder, spinning him violently around and pinning him against the refrigerator with a muffled gasp of agony. His Glock clattered across the floorboards, sliding straight to Elena’s bare feet.
She kicked the handgun under the counter, keeping her barrel trained squarely on Frank’s forehead. ""You didn't keep me alive to protect me, Frank,"" Elena said, her voice dropping into a register of terrifying calm. ""You kept me alive to collect a pension until the bounty climbed high enough for you to cash it in yourself.""
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Frank slid down the front of the stainless-steel appliance, his left hand clamping down over his shattered shoulder. Blood seeped through his fingers, staining his tactical uniform. He looked up into Elena's eyes, seeing no trace of the broken wife he had casually belittled on his weekly check-ins. ""You won't make it two miles,"" Frank wheezed, coughing up a spatter of dark blood. ""There are four more of them outside. They’ve locked down the entire county road.""
Elena tilted her head, her smile cold and sharp as broken ice. ""Then they'll be very disappointed when they find out who's driving your cruiser.""
