Chapter 5
592 Words
The warehouse reeked of blood, sweat, and rust. The bodies of fallen guards lay scattered across the floor, their weapons still clutched in lifeless hands. Flickering overhead lights cast long shadows, stretching toward Ethan like grasping fingers. He barely noticed. His entire focus was on Marcus Vale.
The brute knelt before him, one hand pressing against his shattered knee, blood pooling beneath him. He was breathing heavily, but despite the pain, his lips curled into a smirk. Even now, defeated and bleeding out, he still thought he had the upper hand.
“You think this changes anything?” Marcus grunted, his voice rough but steady. “You kill me, and another will take my place. The business keeps running.”
Ethan didn’t respond. His grip tightened on the pistol, finger hovering over the trigger. He had executed dozens of targets before, but this time, something felt different. He had seen the cages. The women locked inside. Their empty eyes haunted him.
Killing Marcus wasn’t just another mission. It was justice.
But first, he needed answers.
Ethan stepped closer, pressing the barrel of his gun against Marcus’s forehead. “Who do you work for?”
Marcus let out a low chuckle. “That’s cute. You think I’m scared?”
Ethan didn’t hesitate.
He shifted his aim and fired.
The gunshot echoed through the warehouse.
Marcus roared as the bullet tore through his left shoulder, his body jerking from the force of the impact. He swayed but remained upright, his breaths coming in sharp gasps. Blood soaked through his shirt, dripping onto the cold concrete.
“That was a mistake,” Marcus growled.
“The only mistake was thinking I wouldn’t pull the trigger,” Ethan shot back.
For a moment, Marcus was silent, his jaw clenched against the pain. Then, despite everything, he laughed. A low, guttural sound.
“You’re too late,” he said, shaking his head. “The shipment leaves in an hour. My boss—he won’t let you stop it.”
Ethan’s heart pounded. A shipment. More victims. More lives at stake.
“Where?” he demanded.
Marcus smirked, his breath coming in ragged bursts. “Even if I told you, you wouldn’t make it out of here alive.”
Ethan pressed the gun harder against his skull. “Then you don’t make it out, either.”
Marcus’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Go ahead,” he taunted. “Prove you’re as much of a killer as they say you are.”
Ethan’s finger tensed—
Then, a gunshot rang out.
Marcus’s head snapped back, blood spraying from a single bullet hole in his skull. His massive body slumped forward, lifeless.
Ethan spun, gun raised—
A figure stood at the warehouse entrance, lowering a sniper rifle.
Boots clicked softly against the concrete as the assassin stepped forward, moving with the practiced ease of a predator.
Ethan’s pulse steadied, eyes narrowing as the dim light revealed a woman.
Tall. Dressed in black tactical gear. A hood shadowed part of her face, but he caught the sharp glint of her eyes. Cold. Calculating.
“Sloppy,” she murmured, lowering the rifle. “You gave him too much time to talk.”
Ethan didn’t lower his gun. “Who the hell are you?”
The woman smirked. “A friend. Or an enemy. That depends on what you do next.”
Ethan’s instincts screamed at him not to trust her. But she had just saved him the trouble of pulling the trigger himself.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
- Writer
