Chapter 13 - A Debt Paid in Lead
The morning sun washed over the wet asphalt of the hospital’s executive drop-off zone, where a convoy of unmarked federal vehicles and local police cruisers idled with their emergency lights flashing in silent synchronization. A crowd of journalists and news vans had already gathered behind the police barricades down the street, their camera shutters flashing like distant lightning against the glass facades.
Dante walked out through the revolving glass doors of the lobby, refusing the stretcher the paramedics offered. He walked under his own power, albeit with a slight, rigid limp, his posture straight and uncompromising. Bruno trotted right beside him, his metal chain collar clinking softly with every step.
As Dante stepped into the morning air, a sharp crack echoed from across the street—a high-velocity sniper round ricocheting off the concrete pillar inches from his head, sending a shower of white stone dust into the air.
“Sniper! Get down!” a federal agent screamed, diving for cover behind a police cruiser.
Chaos erupted instantly. Officers drew their sidearms, scanning the surrounding high-rise rooftops for the source of the shot. But Dante didn't flinch. He didn't drop to the ground. He simply turned his head toward the rooftop of the old commercial bank across the boulevard, his sharp eyes locking onto a faint glare of sunlight reflecting off a carbon-fiber rifle barrel.
It was a final, desperate message from a stray faction of the council refusing to accept surrender.
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Before the tactical teams could deploy their counter-sniper drones, a deafening roar of a heavy engine split the morning air. A sleek, matte-black armored SUV tore around the corner, its tires screeching as it slid to a halt directly in front of Dante, the passenger door swinging wide open.
“Get in!” a familiar voice barked from inside.
