Chapter 10 - The War on the Concrete
The impact knocked the breath from the old doctor’s lungs, his spectacles flying off his face and shattering against the concrete floor.
"Vance! Kill him!" Dr. Vance screamed, clawing frantically at Ethan’s face with his manicured nails.
The younger Vance drew his sidearm, stepping forward to target Ethan. But as he raised the weapon, a high-pitched, frantic scream echoed from the top of the cellar stairs.
"Uncle Vance, don't!"
Leo came tumbling down the stone steps, ignoring the steep drop, throwing his small, bruise-covered body directly against the back of Vance’s knees.
The sudden weight caught the driver off balance. Vance stumbled forward, his gun discharging harmlessly into the concrete floor with a deafening BOOM that filled the enclosed cellar with acrid cordite smoke.
"Leo! Get out!" Ethan shouted, wrestling the old doctor to the ground, pinning his arms against the floor.
The driver rolled over, grabbing the boy by his dirty hoodie to pull him away, but when his eyes locked onto Leo’s face—seeing the deep, purple swelling on the child's cheek under the harsh glare of the dropped flashlight—the soldier froze.
The boy wasn't screaming for his own life. He was crying, reaching out toward the cot: "Mommy! Mommy!"
Vance looked at the child. He looked at the shattered medical equipment dripping black oil onto the floor. Then he looked at his father, who was screaming curses at Ethan from the ground.
"Father..." Vance rasped, his voice trembling as he released his grip on the boy's hoodie. "What did you do to this kid?"
"Shoot him, you fool!" Dr. Vance shrieked from beneath Ethan’s grip. "Shoot them all! We can erase the records! We can start over in Panama!"
Vance stood up slowly. He looked down at the gun in his hand, then looked at Ethan, who was standing over the old man, breathing heavily, his suit coat torn, his eyes burning with an unyielding promise of retribution.
"Vance," Ethan said, his voice steady despite the adrenaline surging through his blood. "Help me get her out of here. Or kill me right now. Make your choice."
The driver stood frozen in the damp dark for three long seconds. The rain roared outside overhead.
Slowly, deliberately, Vance turned his gun around in his grip and jammed the barrel back into his holster.
May you like
He stepped over to Olivia’s cot, reached down with his massive arms, and gently lifted the frail, blanket-wrapped woman into his chest as if she weighed no more than a bundle of dry twigs.
"The ambulance is two minutes away, Mr. Cole," Vance said, his face a stone mask of grim resolve. "I'll clear the door."
