Chapter 7 - Blood and Ledger Lines
"Drop the bag, accountant," Marcus snarled, his finger tightening on the trigger as the smoke cleared.
Dante moved so fast it was a blur. He stepped in front of Hannah, drawing his weapon and firing two rapid shots that shattered the overhead utility pipes. A torrent of high-pressure water hissed down from the ceiling, plunging the room into chaotic mist and darkness.
Gunfire erupted. Muzzle flashes strobed through the smoke like lightning.
Evan returned fire from a flanking position, taking down two of Kearney’s operatives as they swarmed through the shattered doorway. But more kept coming, flooding the warehouse with tactical gear and lethal intent.
"Dante!" Hannah screamed over the deafening noise of gunfire, grabbing his arm as a bullet ricocheted inches from his head.
"Stay behind me!" Dante barked, firing until his slide locked back. He grabbed a spare magazine from his belt with practiced, deadly efficiency.
Marcus lunged through the mist, bypassing Evan and swinging the butt of his rifle directly at Dante’s head. Dante ducked, countering with a vicious right hook that shattered Marcus’s jaw, but another operative blindsided Dante, slamming him hard against the steel desk.
Hannah watched in sheer horror as Dante went down under two heavy thugs.
Adrenaline—pure, unadulterated, accountant-rage adrenaline—surged through Hannah’s veins. She looked down at the heavy, reinforced metal briefcase sitting on the floor containing Arthur’s encrypted backups.
Without thinking, Hannah grabbed the heavy briefcase with both hands, hoisted it above her head like a medieval weapon, and brought it down with maximum bookkeeper force directly across the back of the thug's skull who was pinning Dante.
The man collapsed instantly, unconscious.
Dante blinked, coughing as he looked up from the floor at Hannah, who was standing over him, breathing heavily, gripping the dented metal briefcase like Thor's hammer.
"Did you... just bludgeon a hitman with an audit briefcase?" Dante rasped, a mix of disbelief and sheer awe in his eyes.
"Don't underestimate the upper-body strength required to carry three years of tax ledgers!" Hannah snapped, extending a hand and hauling Dante up to his feet.
Marcus groaned, pushing himself up from the concrete floor, pulling a backup pistol from his waistline. "I'll kill you both..."
Before Marcus could raise his weapon, a massive, furious orange blur launched from the top of the filing cabinets.
Pickles—the seventeen-pound alley cat—descended directly onto Marcus’s face with a ferocious, blood-curdling screech, claws extended, sinking them deep into the enforcer's cheeks.
Marcus shrieked, dropping his gun, flailing wildly as he tried to claw the furious orange demon off his face.
"Good kitty," Evan muttered, walking up behind Marcus and delivering a swift, merciless butt-stock strike to the back of the man's neck, sending Marcus crashing unconscious to the floor.
Pickles calmly stepped off the fallen thug, shook his paws with utter disdain, trotted over to Hannah, and let out a polite, demanding *meow*.
Dante looked at the unconscious hitman, then at Pickles, and finally at Hannah, who was standing amidst the wreckage holding a dented briefcase and petting a murderous cat.
"I am never, ever making you angry," Dante said, breathless, a slow, mesmerizing smile breaking across his face.
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"Good to know," Hannah replied, her heart pounding against her ribs as Dante pulled her into his arms, holding her tight against his chest amidst the wreckage and the rain.
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