Chapter 24 - Blood and Steel
Gordon moved with terrifying speed.
He didn't fire at Arthur. Instead, he threw his entire body across the open pier to shield me as a mercenary on the shipping container adjusted his aim toward where I stood.
A sharp, sickening *thwack* echoed through the storm, followed by the dull thud of heavy lead striking flesh.
Gordon grunted, his massive frame violently shuddering as two high-caliber rounds struck him—one ripping through his shoulder, the second penetrating his side just below his tactical vest. The impact knocked him to the wet planks, but his arm wrapped tightly around my waist, dragging me behind the thick steel base of an industrial crane.
"Gordon!" I gasped, dropping to my knees beside him.
His coat was already soaked with hot, dark blood. His breathing turned ragged and wet, pain etching deep lines across his forehead, yet his hand remained gripped around his weapon, his gaze fierce.
"I’m... fine," he choked out, coughing blood onto the wood. "The kids... get them out of here, Eleanor. The ledger... don't give it to him."
"Shut up, don't talk," I cried, ripping off my cashmere scarf and pressing it with all my strength against the gaping wound in his torso. Blood instantly bubbled through the fabric, soaking my bare hands. "You idiot! Why did you jump in front of me?"
"Because..." Gordon managed a faint, bloody smirk, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that defied the pain tearing through him, "...you’re not his bait. You’re my family now."
A sudden wail of sirens pierced the harbor fog.
Not the local harbor police—these sirens were high-pitched, echoing with federal urgency. Blue and red flashers swept across the distant perimeter fence as a convoy of black tactical vans smashed through the security gates, tires tearing through the barricades.
Arthur Vance’s eyes widened in sudden realization.
"Federal agents?" Arthur cursed, stumbling back toward the dark slip where a sleek offshore speedboat lay idling in the shadows. "Who authorized this?"
Ben’s voice blasted through the sedan’s external loudspeaker: "I did, you bastard! Homeland Security and the Department of the Treasury! Every offshore account you tapped into in Geneva was flagged an hour ago!"
My son had not come to fight with guns. He had brought the entire United States federal apparatus down on Arthur's head using the encrypted codes Julian had stupidly left behind in his old files.
"Retreat! To the boat, now!" Arthur roared to his surviving mercenaries.
He scrambled down the metal ladder to the waiting vessel, his silver cane slipping from his grip and clattering onto the pier. The mercenaries laid down a final suppressing volley before scrambling aboard. The twin turbo engines of the speedboat roared to life, churning the black harbor water into white froth as it tore away into the safety of the fog-drenched open waters.
Federal agents swarmed the pier, weapons drawn, securing the area and disarming the fallen shooters.
"Medic! We need a medic down here now!" I screamed into the rain, my hands covered in Gordon's crimson blood.
Lily and Ben sprinted down the pier, collapsing to their knees beside us. Lily was sobbing hysterically, while Ben immediately took off his jacket to press against Gordon’s shoulder.
Gordon’s eyes flickered, his consciousness slipping away under the torrential downpour. His bloody fingers reached up, weakly grasping my wrist.
"Eleanor..." he whispered, his voice fading to a dry rasp.
"Stay with me, Gordon! Do you hear me? Stay with me!" I commanded, tears finally spilling over my eyelashes, mixing with the cold rain on my cheeks.
"He didn't... come back for the money," Gordon murmured, his gaze unfocused as the paramedics sprinted toward us with a stretcher. "Arthur came back... because someone invited him. The real architect... is inside your firm..."
May you like
His head rolled back, his hand slipped from my wrist, and the monitors on the paramedic's kit shrieked with a flatline alarm as they lifted his limp body into the flashing red lights of the night.
***
