Page 120 of Iron Roses

Her voice drops lower. “Please go. Lorenzo and I will handle things here.”

I look at the screen. Then past her.

I run.

Two figures push into the hallway ahead. One has a sidearm drawn. The other’s barehanded. I shoot the first through the throat. The second dives. I step into him, drive my shoulder under his ribs, and slam him into the corner wall. He drops. I push through the fire-scorched hallway. The floor beneath me is littered with debris—splintered furniture, shell casings, torn coats. Blood pools near the base of the stairs.

A man steps out from behind the pillar—rifle raised.

I shoot twice. He hits the floor, twisting.

I keep going.

The side door to the garage is open. Smoke drifts in through the top panels. I don’t slow.

The first car’s engine rumbles. The door’s unlocked.

I slide into the seat and pull it shut behind me.

Her signal turns off the main road—east.

My foot drops on the pedal.

The car jerks forward and I take the corner wide, tires screaming.

The car fishtails as I tear out of the estate road. Gravel scatters against the undercarriage. My hands clamp the wheel tight—blood smeared from the knuckles down.

The streets blur. I pass the jackknifed truck at the corner, metal torn open. Brake lights flicker against the haze still hanging over the city.

Allegra’s tracker pulses steady in the passenger seat, the line angling hard toward the industrial road.

The fencing appears up ahead—chain-link, twisted. I shove the wheel left. The mirror clips the barrier and snaps off.

I keep going. A narrow bend. Crates smashed open along the sidewalk. Something in the wheel well grinds.

I approach the docks and I spot the first car. Parked with the door wide open, engine humming.

The second car is pulled up crooked behind it—driver’s side left wide. I stop with the wheels half on the gravel. Slam the door back and I’m moving before it swings shut.

Boots slap wood. I hit the planks hard.

I see Fausto first, knees planted wide in the water. Both arms stretch down, fists buried in the waves. Then I see her submerged. His shoulders are braced. He leans into the pressure like he’s done this before.

He is drowning her. I run over and I hit him.

The first impact knocks him sideways. He doesn’t see me coming. His hands fly off her. His balance slips.

He turns—

My fist connects with his jaw. His head snaps sideways.

He stumbles. Tries to speak. I strike again. The second punch lands under his cheekbone. His legs give. He crumples, arm catching on the railing before his body slaps the deck.

He doesn’t rise.

I drop to the edge.

She’s still under. I go in.

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