Chapter 11: The Breach
The sheer force of the tactical vehicle shattered the heavy steel door like brittle glass. Concrete shrapnel and sparks rained down as the matte-black SUV skidded to a halt between Ethan’s family and Victoria’s hired thugs.
Before the dust could even settle, the doors of the vehicle flew open. Marcus, a towering former Marine with a scar slicing through his left eyebrow, stepped out alongside two heavily armed security contractors.
"Drop the weapons!" Marcus’s voice boomed over the ringing in everyone's ears, his assault rifle leveled directly at the handlers.
Dr. Aris’s men, realizing they were severely outgunned and outmatched, didn't hesitate. They dropped their batons and raised their hands, immediately dropping to their knees on the grease-stained concrete.
Victoria, however, was completely consumed by a feral rage. "Shoot them!" she screamed at the handlers, her face twisted into an ugly, desperate mask. When they didn't move, she swung her .38 revolver toward Ethan.
Bang.
The gunshot echoed deafeningly in the enclosed space. But it wasn't Victoria who fired. Ethan had squeezed the trigger of his Colt M1911 a fraction of a second faster. His bullet didn't hit Victoria's chest; it shattered the heavy silver cylinder of her revolver, violently tearing the weapon from her grip.
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Victoria shrieked, clutching her stinging, bloodied hand as she collapsed to the floor in shock.
Marcus signaled his men, who moved in swiftly, zip-tying the handlers and a hysterical Victoria. Ethan didn't waste a second looking at his wife. He holstered his weapon, wrapped his arm around Clara’s uninjured side, and hurried her and Leo into the back of the idling tactical vehicle.
