Chapter 54 - The Mother’s Armor
The corridor became a slaughterhouse of muzzle flashes and ricocheting lead.
Consortium mercenaries, clad in sterile grey uniforms with mirrored face shields, poured through the shattered doorway. But Silas and his three remaining men met them with cold, disciplined savagery. Silas fired in precise double-taps, dropping three men in the blink of an eye before charging forward into the smoke.
I huddled behind the concrete pillar, my body shielding Clara.
"Mommy..." Clara whimpered, her hands clamped over her ears. "The bad men are loud."
"Close your eyes, baby," I whispered, tears streaming down my cheeks, but my blood was running hotter than it ever had in my life. "Close your eyes and count to ten. Mommy is right here."
Suddenly, the side ventilation grille beside our alcove kicked inward with a violent crash.
A Consortium mercenary crawled through, covered in soot, an assault carbine slung across his chest. His visor swept the room, instantly locking onto Clara. He leveled his weapon, his gloved finger moving to the trigger.
"Target acquired," he barked into his helmet radio. "The child is—"
I didn't think. I didn't hesitate. The terrified waitress who used to drop coffee mugs when drunken customers shouted was gone. That woman died the moment Silas locked the doors of the diner.
I grabbed a discarded heavy steel crowbar from the maintenance crate beside me, screamed with the fury of a mother defending her cub, and swung it with all the force in my body.
*CRACK!*
The iron struck the side of his helmet with a sickening crunch. The mercenary stumbled, his weapon discharging harmlessly into the concrete ceiling. He snarled, swinging a heavy gloved fist that caught me across the jaw.
Pain flared behind my eyes, and the taste of metallic blood flooded my mouth. I crashed to the floor, but as he lunged for Clara, I lunged at his legs, wrapping both arms around his knees and dragging him down into the dirt.
"Get off me, bitch!" he hissed, drawing a combat knife from his chest sheath.
He raised the blade to drive it into my neck—and then a massive black combat boot slammed into his chest like a freight train, caving in his ribcage.
Silas stood over the mercenary, his face splattered with blood. Without a word, he grabbed the man by his tactical vest, hoisted him into the air with one hand, and slammed his skull into the solid bedrock wall.
The mercenary went limp and crumpled to the floor.
Silas dropped to his knees beside me, his breathing ragged. He pulled me up, his hands checking my jaw, his eyes burning with an almost terrifying concern. "Did he hurt you?"
"I hit him first," I spat out, wiping the blood from my lip.
May you like
A ghost of a proud, savage smirk touched the corner of Silas's mouth. "Good girl. Now take Clara. Miller is bringing up the armored sub-skiff. We're moving."
***
