The Sins Of The Father

Chapter 4

Never hesitate to shed blood when the enemy stands inside your sanctuary because mercy will only ensure your own destruction. The deafening c***k of a gunshot tore through the heavy bass of the music and shattered the computer monitor right beside Kwame. Sparks rained down over the workstation while the young quartermaster screamed and threw himself onto the concrete floor in absolute terror.

Dante did not waste a single breath to shout a warning before he launched his massive frame into the confined workspace. He crashed into the back of the first hitman with the force of a freight train and drove the killer into a towering stack of server racks. The impact knocked the silenced pistol from the assassin's grip and sent the weapon sliding across the floor into the shadows.

"Get down and stay behind the desk," Dante roared over the relentless thumping of the Afro house music. He grabbed a thick coil of copper electrical wire resting on the table and wrapped the cord around the throat of the struggling killer.

The assassin gagged and clawed at the wire while Dante twisted the makeshift garrote with unyielding strength. Ten years of suppressed rage poured into his scarred hands as he pulled the man backward and slammed his skull against the reinforced casing of a massive subwoofer. The heavy thud of bone hitting steel matched the brutal rhythm of the song echoing through the underground bunker.

The second hitman recovered from the initial shock and pivoted on his heel to level his weapon at Dante. The killer adjusted his aim toward the center of Dante's chest with the cold precision of a man who killed for a paycheck. Dante released the unconscious first attacker and grabbed a heavy steel soldering iron from the edge of the cluttered workbench.

He hurled the heavy tool through the air with a primal grunt right as a second gunshot echoed through the chaotic room. The bullet grazed Dante's shoulder and tore through his dark jacket but the heavy iron struck the hitman square in the face. The assassin stumbled backward with a groan of pain and clutched his shattered nose while blood poured over his tactical gear.

"You should have brought a small army to finish this job," Dante growled while he closed the distance between them. He ignored the stinging burn in his shoulder and tackled the disoriented killer to the concrete floor.

The two men wrestled in a desperate tangle of limbs while the deafening music continued to shake the foundation of the room. The hitman tried to angle his pistol toward Dante but the former enforcer pinned the weapon hand to the ground under his knee. Dante unleashed a barrage of crushing punches that carried the absolute weight of his stolen decade in the maximum security prison.

Every single strike echoed with the memory of Elena standing beside Victor in the rain just a few hours ago. He shattered the jaw of the assassin and felt a grim satisfaction as the man went limp beneath his bloodied knuckles. Dante rolled off the defeated attacker and remained kneeling on the cold floor while he gasped for air in the dim red emergency lighting.

The heavy music thumped in his chest while he surveyed the destruction scattered across the underground sanctuary. Both of the professional hitmen lay bleeding out on the concrete floor amidst broken circuit boards and shattered glass. Dante wiped a smear of blood from his cheek and forced his aching legs to push him back up to a standing position.

He felt a deep exhaustion settle into his bones after pushing his body to the absolute limit to save his friend. The adrenaline began to fade from his system and left behind a throbbing pain in the shoulder where the bullet had grazed his flesh. He needed to secure the perimeter and make sure Victor had not sent backup to finish the botched execution.

"The threat is neutralized Kwame," Dante said with a ragged voice while he scanned the shadows for his friend. He stepped over the fallen bodies and moved toward the overturned workstation where the young man had taken cover.

He expected to find the quartermaster cowering in fear after surviving such a close brush with death. Dante approached the edge of the desk and held his hands up to show he meant no harm to the person hiding behind the metal frame. The silence between the heavy beats of the music felt thicker than the tension in the air.

He heard the distinct sound of boots shuffling against the concrete floor over the blaring sound system. Dante narrowed his eyes and tried to peer through the gloom to locate the exact position of the terrified man. He knew the trauma of a near execution could make even the most loyal ally react with unpredictable violence.

A sudden metallic click severed the lingering tension and made the blood freeze inside Dante's veins. Kwame rose from the shadows behind the desk wearing his vintage red and white football jersey covered in dust from the floor. The young man spun around with terror in his eyes and racked a heavy shotgun in one smooth motion.

He aimed the wide barrel squarely at Dante's chest while his hands shook in the dim light of the surviving computer screens. The young quartermaster stared at the scarred face of the man who had just saved his life with absolute disbelief and fear.

"Stay right where you are," Kwame ordered with a trembling voice that betrayed his internal panic. He pressed the stock of the weapon against his shoulder and tightened his finger over the trigger.