Chapter 5 - Ambush on Lake Shore Drive
Red emergency strobes bathed the sixty-story tower in a pulsing, bloody glow.
Dominic didn't panic. In a fluid motion, he pulled Harper down behind the reinforced steel structure of the mahogany desk, unholstering a sleek Sig Sauer 9mm pistol from his shoulder holster with his right hand while his left gripped her wrist with bruising strength.
"Stay low," Dominic ordered, his voice flat, devoid of fear. "Follow my footsteps. Do not look back."
The sound of silenced submachine gun fire echoed down the marble hallway outside, accompanied by the wet, sickening thud of falling bodies. Romano’s men were sweeping the executive floor.
"How did they bypass the lobby scanners?" Harper gasped, her heart hammering in her throat like a trapped bird.
"Julian Bellini," Dominic answered coldly, referring to his head of supply logistics. "The authorization codes Harper found. He turned."
Dominic fired three precise rounds through the frosted glass of the double office doors. A grunt and the crash of a heavy body hitting the floor followed.
"Move!"
Dominic pulled Harper through a concealed panel behind the executive bookshelf—a private, reinforced fire chute leading to the subterranean parking garage. They tumbled down the spiraling metal staircase, the sound of boots pounding the floor above them.
They burst into the underground garage just as a black armored Maybach skidded around the concrete pillar, tires screaming. The door swung open—Luca was behind the wheel, his face streaked with sweat and soot.
"Get in!" Luca roared.
Dominic shoved Harper into the backseat, diving in behind her as automatic rounds raked across the reinforced glass of the rear window, creating spiderweb fractures that held firm against the armor.
The Maybach shot up the ramp and exploded into the blinding white fury of a Chicago blizzard on Lake Shore Drive.
The wind off Lake Michigan howled at fifty miles an hour, whipping sheets of snow across the icy asphalt. Behind them, through the swirling whiteout, the headlights of three black Chevy Suburbans emerged like hungry wolves.
"They're flanking us!" Luca yelled, wrestling with the steering wheel as the heavy sedan slid across a patch of black ice.
A heavy SUV slammed into their passenger side, metal screaming as sparks sprayed against the blizzard. Dominic rolled down his window an inch, unbothered by the sub-zero gale, and returned fire with lethal accuracy, putting two rounds through the attacking driver’s windshield. The SUV spun out of control, crashing into a concrete barrier and exploding into a fireball that lit up the snowy night.
"Harper, stay down on the floorboards!" Dominic commanded.
"Dominic, look!" Harper screamed, pointing past his shoulder.
On the pedestrian bridge spanning the expressway fifty yards ahead, a man in a tactical jacket knelt with a shoulder-mounted rocket launcher. A laser sight painted a bright red dot directly on Dominic’s chest.
Harper didn't think.
She lunged forward, grabbing the collar of Dominic’s overcoat and pulling him down with all her weight just as the rocket detonated against the pavement ten feet in front of them.
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The shockwave sent the heavy Maybach airborne, flipping it onto its side. Metal buckled. Glass shattered. The world turned upside down in a violent symphony of shrieking steel and smoke before slamming to a halt on the snow-covered median.
***
