Killing The Crown: Lethal Lies

Chapter 4: Cold Currents and the Last Line of Defence

The waters of the Limmat in October are not merely cold; they are thousands of icy needles piercing Kaiden Bart's pores instantly. As his body hit the dark surface, Kai's breath hitched. The gunshot wound in his left arm and the bruises across his body reacted to the shock of the extreme temperature, sending signals of pain that made his vision white out for a moment.

However, Kai did not have the luxury of passing out.

Above him, the rattle of machine-gun fire still echoed beneath the bridge, bouncing off the concrete walls. Kai forced his stiffened arms to paddle. He had to follow the direction of Ethel’s speedboat. His instinct as a protector was stronger than the cold beginning to freeze his joints. Every breath was a struggle; his lungs felt constricted, and the weight of his soaked clothing seemed to pull him toward the muddy riverbed.

He could see the tail lights of Ethel's boat in the distance, speeding away toward the more industrial area of Zurich West. Kai tried to stay in the shadows of the jetty's edge, avoiding the searchlights from the police helicopters that had begun to roar across the Zurich sky.

"Don't die now, Kaiden," he whispered to himself, his voice drowned out by the rush of water. "You haven't called her yet."

The thought of Elea was the only buoy keeping him conscious. He imagined the warmth of the café that afternoon, a sharp contrast to the bitter reality that he was now swimming through wastewater to save the life of a man who considered him nothing more than a pawn.

Suddenly, a powerful spotlight cut through the darkness of the river, aimed directly at Kai's face. He squinted, preparing for the worst-case scenario if it were Eigar’s cleanup team. However, the sound of the approaching engine was smoother. A pitch-black tactical inflatable boat emerged from behind a bridge pillar.

"Sector four! Target acquired! This is extraction team Delta-6!" a voice shouted over the comms.

Two men in full combat gear and balaclavas leaned over the side of the boat. They were elite security officers employed by Ethel Bowie, a team that always operated in the shadows. One of them reached out with a powerful hand, grabbing the collar of Kai’s torn coat and hauling him onto the boat with a single, rough jerk.

"Mr Bart, you are in bad shape," the officer said while immediately wrapping a silver thermal blanket around Kai’s shoulders.

"Forget about me," Kai coughed, hacking river water from his lungs. "Where is Ethel? Where is his position now?"

"Mr Bowie is heading for the safe house at Industrial Pier 12. We must rendezvous there. Eigar didn't just send bikes; he deployed an amphibious team," the officer replied, pinning the throttle of their inflatable boat to the maximum.

Kai ripped off the thermal blanket. He grabbed an HK416 assault rifle lying on the floor of the boat, checking the magazine with a terrifyingly mechanical motion despite his hands still shaking from hypothermia. "Give me extra ammunition. We are heading into a hot zone."

Industrial Pier 12 looked like a ghost's lair. Flickering mercury lights cast a sickly yellow glow on the stacks of steel containers. As their boat approached, Kai could see Ethel’s speedboat already docked, but the atmosphere was far too silent.

That silence shattered when a massive explosion destroyed one of the warehouses at the pier’s edge. Flames billowed high, turning the cold night a searing orange.

"They are already here!" Kai shouted. "Land on the right side! We go in through the lower evacuation route!"

As the boat hit the concrete of the pier, Kai leaped out even before the engine had fully cut. Adrenaline had completely suppressed his pain. He ran with a slight limp toward Ethel’s position, followed by four heavily armed elite officers.

Eigar Bowie had truly committed everything. From behind the darkness of the containers, a dozen men in unmarked combat fatigues emerged with heavy weaponry. These were not mere assassins; they were paramilitaries.

"Secure the perimeter!" Kai commanded, his voice returning to that of a lethal field commander.

Kai saw Ethel standing behind the steel door of the main warehouse, his usually calm face now etched with immense fury. Ethel held a submachine gun, ready to put up his final stand. The man stared at Kai, who arrived soaked to the bone and covered in blood—a look that acknowledged Kai was the only reason he was still breathing.

"Kai! They’ve cut the satellite communication lines!" Ethel shouted over the din of gunfire.

"We don't need communication; we only need to survive!" Kai shot back.

The battle at the industrial pier became incredibly brutal. Kai ran from one container to the next, letting off precision shots that dropped the enemy one by one. He moved like a wraith; emerging from the darkness, delivering hot lead, then vanishing before the enemy could retaliate.

However, the opposition was not stupid. They used flanking tactics. A grenade was tossed toward Ethel's position.

"Ethel, get down!"

Kai lunged, not for cover, but to shove Ethel into a hidden underground bunker in the warehouse floor. The explosion slammed into Kai’s back, throwing him against the concrete wall with enough force to break several more ribs.

The world seemed to spin. Cement dust clouded his vision. Kai could feel a warm fluid trickling from his ear. However, he saw two attackers approaching the bunker opening where Ethel was located.

With a final surge of strength that seemed squeezed from the very marrow of his bones, Kai stood up. He was no longer using a firearm—he was out of bullets. He drew his tactical knife and lunged at the first man from behind, driving the sharp blade into the gap between the helmet and the ballistic vest. The man fell without a sound. The second man turned, trying to aim his rifle at Kai’s face, but Kai was faster. He grabbed the barrel of the weapon, diverted it, and used his knee to strike the opponent's groin before finally slashing his throat.

Kai stood over the two corpses, his breath sounding like a broken engine. He was covered in blood from head to toe—most of it not his own.

Ethel’s remaining hired officers finally managed to sweep the rest of Eigar’s forces from the area. Real Zurich police sirens now sounded closer, signaling that the authorities could no longer be ignored.

Ethel emerged from the bunker, brushing dust from his now-ruined blue suit. He looked at Kai, who stood trembling, leaning against a steel pillar to keep his body from collapsing.

"Eigar will pay for this," Ethel said in a low tone that held a promise of death. He looked at Kai, then gave a small nod—the highest form of thanks a sociopath like Ethel Bowie could offer. "You did your job well, Kaiden. Very well."

The organisation’s medics approached Kai, trying to take his arm, but Kai brushed them off. He reached into the pocket of his soaked coat, searching for the one object that mattered most.

His phone.

The device was completely dead. Too much river water and the shock of the explosion. Kai stared at the black screen with a feeling of devastation that hurt more than the wounds on his body. He had promised to call Elea. He wanted to hear her voice to ensure that the outside world—the normal world, the world full of the scent of coffee and laughter—still existed.

"Mr Bart, you must be taken to the central medical facility immediately," the head of security urged. "You have lost far too much blood."

Kai did not answer. He stared at the Zurich night sky, now filled with black smoke. Somewhere in this city, Eleanor Rose might be waiting for his call, unaware that the man she had just had lunch with had turned into a bloody monster to protect a throne he didn't actually care about.

Kai allowed them to lead him into a medical vehicle hidden behind a transport truck. As the door closed, the last thing he saw was his reflection in the window glass—pale, broken, and full of sin.

He was Kaiden Bart, the Bowie family’s hound of war. And he realised that the more he tried to love Elea, the more he dragged her into the darkness that was destroying his life. Yet, amidst the pain beginning to drown his consciousness, he swore: he would not let this war take the only beautiful thing he had left.

His consciousness faded as the car sped through the night, leaving behind the pier that now stood as a silent witness to just how high the price of loyalty was in the world of assassins.