Chapter 8 - The Narrow Path
Vincent stood in the middle of the tunnel,
his back against a rusted iron pipe.
He could hear the mercenaries approaching,
their voices echoing through the dark.
He had three bullets left.
He had his wits.
And he had the anger of a man who had been betrayed by his own.
The first man stepped into the light of the flashlight Vincent had dropped as a decoy.
Vincent fired.
The man fell,
his rifle clattering against the stones.
Vincent lunged forward,
grabbing the fallen weapon and rolling into the shadows just as a hail of return fire tore through the air.
He was no longer a billionaire.
He was a ghost in the machine,
using the darkness as his armor.
He fired a burst from the rifle,
pinning the remaining men behind a stack of old railway ties.
"Hale!"
Elias’s voice boomed through the tunnel.
"Give it up!"
"You're fighting for a world that doesn't want you!"
"The people you protected at that dinner are already selling your secrets to the highest bidder!"
Vincent didn't answer.
He knew Elias was right about the guests,
but they weren't the ones he was fighting for.
He was fighting for the girl.
He was fighting for the truth.
He moved silently through the water,
the cold liquid seeping into his shoes.
He reached a junction where a large steam pipe ran across the ceiling.
He aimed at the valve,
his heart steady.
He pulled the trigger,
and the pipe erupted,
realing a cloud of scalding steam into the tunnel.
The screams of the mercenaries filled the air,
blinding them and giving Vincent the opening he needed.
He moved through the white mist like a wraith,
striking with the butt of the rifle and the precision of a surgeon.
One by one,
the shadows fell.
Until only one remained.
Elias Thorne stood at the end of the tunnel,
his suit ruined,
his face contorted with rage.
He held a detonator in his hand.
"You think you've won?"
Elias spat.
"If I press this,
the entire block above us goes up."
"The library,
the hospital,
the people."
"Is that what you want,
Vincent?"
Vincent stepped out of the steam,
the rifle leveled at Elias’s head.
"You won't press it,
Elias,"
Vincent said,
his voice cold as the grave.
"Because you're a businessman."
"And there's no profit in a suicide."
Elias looked at him,
his thumb hovering over the button.
For a moment,
the world stood still.
The only sound was the hissing of the steam and the drip of water.
Then,
Elias laughed.
"You're right,"
he said,
dropping the detonator.
"But I don't need a bomb to kill you."
He pulled a long,
thin blade from his sleeve,
May you like
the steel gleaming in the dark.
"Let's settle this like men."
