CHAPTER 25 #2
"Move!" Silas’s voice comes back, strained, breathless. "Change position! Don't stay static!"
I scramble on my hands and knees, crawling along the catwalk toward the ladder on the far side.
Below me, the shipyard has turned into a war zone.
Silas is a blur of motion. He uses the cover of the fallen container, popping out to fire, then disappearing again. He is outnumbered, but he is faster. He knows the terrain.
But Nikolai...
I scan the chaos for the white coat.
There.
Nikolai is retreating. He is using his remaining men as human shields, backing toward the Escalades. He is holding a heavy pistol, firing wildly in Silas’s direction.
"Silas!" I call out. "He’s running! He’s going for the car!"
"Cut him off!" Silas roars.
I reach the ladder. I don't climb down. It’s too slow.
I look at the top of the shipping containers below me. It’s a ten-foot drop.
Do it.
I holster my gun. I swing over the railing and drop.
I land hard on the corrugated metal roof of the container. The impact jars my ankles, sending a shockwave of pain up my shins, but the adrenaline masks it.
I run along the top of the containers. I am above them. I have the high ground.
I reach the end of the line. The Escalades are right below me.
Nikolai is there. He is yanked the driver’s door open, shoving the driver out of the way. He is trying to flee.
I can't let him leave. If he leaves, the war never ends. If he leaves, we spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders.
I see the second explosive charge. I placed it earlier, right on the support beam of the old crane tower next to the exit.
I pull out the remote again.
"Silas, clear the exit!" I scream. "I’m dropping the hammer!"
"Clear!" Silas yells back.
I press the second button.
BOOM.
The charge detonates.
The rusted leg of the crane shears off. The massive steel structure groans—a sound like a dying leviathan—and begins to tilt.
It falls in slow motion.
It crashes down across the shipyard entrance, crushing the hood of the lead Escalade and blocking the gate completely with tons of twisted metal.
Nikolai screams, scrambling back as the car is flattened mere feet from him.
He is trapped.
The dust clears slowly.
Silence falls over the yard. The shooting has stopped. The guards are dead or fled.
There is only the crackle of fires starting in the debris and the heavy, wet breathing of men.
I jump down from the container, landing in a crouch on the asphalt. I draw my gun.
Silas emerges from the smoke on the other side. He is bleeding from a cut on his forehead, blood masking one eye, making him look like a demon rising from hell. His gun is raised.
Nikolai stands between us.
His white coat is ruined, covered in dust and oil. He looks from me to Silas. He realizes he is surrounded.
He raises his gun toward me.
"Drop it," Silas says. His voice is quiet. terrifying.
Nikolai hesitates. His hand shakes.
"You took everything," Nikolai whispers, staring at Silas. "My money. My city."
"You tried to take my wife," Silas says.
Nikolai laughs. It’s a broken, manic sound. "Your wife? She is a whore you bought to pay a debt."
Silas doesn't shoot. He lowers his gun slightly.
He looks at me.
"Ivy," he says.
I look at him. I know what he’s doing. He’s giving me the choice. He’s giving me the kill.
I walk forward. My boots crunch on the glass.
I stop ten feet from Nikolai.
"I’m not a whore," I say calmly. "And I wasn't bought."
I raise the Glock. I aim at his chest.
"I was chosen."
Nikolai sneers. He swings his gun toward me.
I don't flinch. I don't close my eyes. I see the front sight. I see the target.
Squeeze.
BANG.
The bullet hits him in the shoulder. He spins, dropping his gun. He falls to his knees, clutching the wound.
He looks up at me, shock etched into his features. "You..."
"That was for the kidnapping," I say.
I step closer.
BANG.
I shoot him in the leg.
He screams, collapsing onto his side.
"That was for my father," I say. Not because I loved him, but because he was mine to mourn, not Nikolai's to leverage.
I stand over him. He is panting, bleeding out on the cold asphalt. The arrogance is gone. There is only fear.
"Please," he wheezes.
I look at Silas. He is watching me. He isn't smiling. He is witnessing. He is proud.
I look back at Nikolai.
"And this," I whisper, aiming between his eyes. "This is for touching my hair."
BANG.
The shot echoes across the water, final and absolute.
Nikolai Sokolov falls back. The silence returns to the shipyard.
I lower the gun. My arms are trembling now. The adrenaline is fading, leaving behind the cold reality of the dead body at my feet.
I killed him.
I executed him.
I feel... hollow. But clean.
Silas walks over to me. He steps over the body without looking down.
He holsters his weapon. He reaches out and takes the gun from my hand, engaging the safety and tucking it into his belt.
He pulls me into his arms.
He doesn't say "Good job." He doesn't say "It’s over."
He buries his face in my neck and breathes me in.
"Let’s go home," he says.
"We don't have a home," I whisper, leaning against him, my legs turning to jelly. "The Estate is ruined."
Silas pulls back. He cups my face, his thumbs smearing the soot on my cheeks.
"We have the money," he says. "We have the city."
He looks around at the wreckage, at the burning crane, at the dead king at our feet.
"We can build a new castle, Ivy. Bigger. Stronger."
He kisses me. It tastes of smoke and blood and forever.
"As long as I have the Queen," he says, "I have a home."