Chapter 4 - The Shadow of the Crown
Glass rained down onto the tile floor.
Before Elena could even scream, a heavy black-booted leg kicked through the window frame, followed instantly by a broad-shouldered man dropping heavily into the narrow restroom space.
He was dressed in dark tactical gear, his face covered by a black balaclava.
Elena dropped her phone and instinctively reached into her purse for her heavy metal pen, stepping backward toward the locked door.
The man landed softly, caught her by the arm with lightning speed, and clamped a gloved hand firmly over her mouth, pinning her against the wall.
“Don't make a sound, Ms. Mercer,” a low, cold voice rasped through the cloth mask.
Elena kicked wildly at his shins, driving her elbow upward toward his ribs, but the man absorbed the impact effortlessly, pinning her wrists behind her back with one hand.
The lock on the restroom door clicked open from the outside.
Daniel Reed stepped into the small restroom, closing the door behind him.
His warm, sweet demeanor was completely gone. His face was cold, focused, and entirely devoid of emotion. He pulled a silenced pistol from his jacket, keeping it lowered at his side.
“Quietly, Carl,” Daniel said flatly to the man holding Elena. “We don't need a scene in the dining room.”
Elena glared at Daniel over the gloved hand covering her mouth, her eyes burning with pure fury.
Daniel looked at her with a mild, almost apologetic expression. “I’m sorry about this, Elena. I really do think you’re a brilliant woman. But Marcus Vance pays three million dollars for the decryption keys to Adrian Vale’s harbor manifests, and you are the only person who holds the voice-authorization phrases for his primary server.”
Marcus Vance.
The head of the ruthless rival syndicate operating out of Detroit.
Elena felt a wave of icy horror wash over her.
“Put her under,” Daniel ordered quietly.
The man behind her reached into his tactical vest, pulling out a pre-filled syringe with a clear liquid inside.
Elena fought with everything she had, thrashing her weight against her captor, slamming her head backward into his chest.
THUD!
The heavy wooden door of the restroom suddenly splintered inward with the force of a battering ram.
The door flew off its hinges, slamming directly into Daniel Reed’s face with a violent crunch, breaking his nose and throwing him forcefully against the tiled wall.
Adrian Vale stepped through the ruined doorway.
He was not wearing his suit jacket. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, his dark eyes burning with a terrifying, apocalyptic fury that made the cold air in the room turn to ice.
Behind him stood Mason Cole and Theo Grant, holding suppressed pistols aimed straight into the room.
The man holding Elena tried to raise his arm to inject her, but Adrian moved with a speed that defied human biology.
Adrian crossed the small room in a single stride, grabbed the man’s wrist, and twisted it violently sideways.
CRACK!
The man shrieked in agony as his wrist snapped instantly. Adrian grabbed him by the throat, slammed him violently against the tiled wall, and drove a brutal knee directly into his solar plexus.
The attacker collapsed onto the floor, gasping helplessly for air.
Adrian pulled Elena behind his broad back in a single, fluid motion, shielding her entirely with his body.
Daniel Reed was dragging himself up off the floor, blood streaming from his nose, reaching wildly for his dropped weapon.
Mason Cole stepped into the room and placed the cold barrel of his suppressed pistol directly against the back of Daniel’s neck.
“Don't do it, kid,” Mason said softly. “It gets very messy.”
Daniel froze, his hands trembling as he slowly lifted them into the air.
Adrian turned around, holding Elena tightly by her arms, his dark eyes scanning her face and body with desperate, intense speed.
“Are you hurt?” he demanded, his voice thick and rough with pure adrenaline. “Did he touch you? Did he stick you with that needle?”
“No,” Elena gasped, her hands clinging tightly to the crisp fabric of his shirt, her heart pounding so violently she could barely breathe. “No... I’m okay. I’m okay, Adrian.”
Adrian let out a long, ragged breath, resting his forehead briefly against hers, his hands holding her so tightly she could feel the intense, violent tremor running through his entire body.
“Thank God,” he whispered raspy into her hair.
He straightened up, turning his head slowly to look down at Daniel Reed kneeling on the bloody tile floor.
The absolute, lethal coldness returned to Adrian’s face, a darkness so deep that even Mason and Theo took a subtle step back.
“Take them to the warehouse,” Adrian ordered quietly. “And call Kara. I want Vance’s Detroit accounts frozen by midnight.”
“Got it, Boss,” Mason said, roughly dragging Daniel to his feet with heavy plastic zip-ties.
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Adrian turned back to Elena, wrapping his arm securely around her waist, lifting her almost effortlessly over the broken wood and shattered glass on the floor.
“We’re leaving,” Adrian said softly into her ear. “You’re coming home with me.”
