Chapter 6 - THE SIEGE OF THE CLINIC
"Stay behind the surgical partition," Dante ordered, his voice dropping into the absolute, chilling authority of a military commander. He racked the slide of his firearm with a crisp, mechanical click.
"I'm not hiding while you bleed out," I whispered fiercely, grabbing a heavy steel oxygen cylinder from the rack. "This is my clinic."
Dante didn't argue. He knew stubbornness when he saw it. He took a tactical position near the corner of the hallway, motioning for Thor to stay low beside him. The dog crouched silently, his muscles coiled like steel springs, perfectly attuned to the lethal energy radiating from the man beside him.
Footsteps crunched softly over broken glass in the front waiting room.
Flashlight beams danced across the walls, cutting through the pitch-black darkness of the clinic.
"Check the back rooms," a harsh voice whispered. "Marco wants her head on a spike if she's been helping him."
Two shadows appeared in the hallway, silhouetted against the faint moonlight filtering through the high clerestory windows. They moved with professional efficiency, weapons raised, scanning the dark corners.
Dante didn't wait for them to spot us.
Pffft. Pffft.
Two muffled coughs from the suppressed weapon broke the silence. The two leading mercenaries dropped silently to the floor before they even realized they were under attack.
"Contact!" a voice roared from the front waiting room. "We've got movement in the back!"
Chaos erupted.
Automatic gunfire hammered through the interior drywall, sending splinters of wood and chunks of plaster raining down over us. The deafening roar of submachine guns filled the small clinic, shattering cages, shredding medical supply boxes, and turning my peaceful sanctuary into an urban combat zone.
"Get down!" Dante yelled, throwing his weight over me and shielding my body with his own as a hail of bullets shattered the glass cabinets above our heads.
"Your shoulder!" I cried out, feeling warm blood soaking through my shirt from his reopened wound.
"I don't care about the shoulder!" Dante snarled, firing three precise shots around the corner of the hallway. A heavy body hit the floor with a dull thud in the front room.
"Dante! There's too many of them!" I yelled over the din of gunfire.
"Thor! Attack!" Dante suddenly commanded, pointing toward the dark hallway.
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With a ferocious, earth-shattering bark, the four-pound German Shepherd shot out from the shadows like a furry missile. A startled yell echoed from the hallway, followed by the sound of a heavy weapon clattering to the floor and a mercenary screaming in agony as Thor sank his teeth into a tactical vest.
"Now! Move!" Dante grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the reinforced escape hatch hidden beneath the large stainless-steel examination table.
