Chapter 5 - THE CHURCH BELLS TOLL
The glass windows of the side chapels didn't break; they shattered into thousands of colored crystals as automatic gunfire erupted from the street outside.
"GET DOWN!" Daniel yelled, throwing his body over Amara as heavy rifle rounds tore through the wooden pews, splintering the aged oak into flying shrapnel.
The church erupted into absolute chaos.
Screaming high-society guests threw themselves onto the marble floor, crawling over overturned velvet chairs and discarded mink coats. The Rinaldi soldiers opened fire toward the front altar, believing the Morettis had set a trap, while the Moretti guards returned fire from the balconies above, thinking the Rinaldis had ambushed the wedding.
In the middle of the crossfire, Daniel pulled two suppressed pistols from beneath his tuxedo jacket, rolled onto his back, and fired four precise shots into the high chandelier chain hanging over the main aisle.
CLINK. CLINK. SNAP.
The massive, three-ton brass chandelier tore free from the painted ceiling, plummeting sixty feet and crashing directly onto the altar steps, crushing the communion rail and filling the central aisle with smoke, dust, and blinding white sparks.
"Move!" Daniel shouted, pulling Amara to her feet.
"Where?!" she yelled, dust covering her navy dress.
"The crypts!"
He grabbed her hand, weaving through the chaos toward a heavy iron door behind the statue of St. Jude.
A Rinaldi gunman stepped out from behind a stone pillar, his gun raised. "Moretti!"
Amara didn't think. Years of frustration with heavy filing cabinets and municipal bureaucracy seemed to condense into a single physical instinct. She reached into her dress pocket, pulled out her heavy iron keychain containing sixteen keys and a brass paperweight, and threw it with all her strength straight at the shooter's face.
CLACK.
The heavy brass object struck the gunman squarely between the eyes. He stumbled back, his nose exploding in blood, his shot wild and striking the ceiling.
Daniel didn't miss a beat. He caught the man by his collar, slammed him into the stone pillar, and dragged Amara through the iron door, slamming it shut behind them and throwing the heavy iron deadbolt.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Bullets slammed into the outside of the iron door, but the four-inch metal held firm.
They were in a dark, narrow stone stairwell leading down into the church cellar. The air was cold, damp, and smelled of earth and centuries-old stone.
Amara stood on the top step, breathing heavily, her hands resting on her knees. Her dress was covered in plaster dust, one of her shoes was scuffed, and her hair was a complete disaster.
She looked up at Daniel, who was standing two steps below her, holding his pistols, looking up at her with an expression that was terrifyingly close to awe.
"You threw a paperweight at a hitman," Daniel said quietly.
"It was my municipal key ring," Amara gasped, wiping sweat from her forehead. "And if we die down here, Mr. Moretti, I am going to haunt you for the rest of your natural life."
May you like
Daniel smiled, stepping up the stair until he was standing inches from her, his breathing steady despite the madness above them.
"You won't have to haunt me, Amara," he whispered, reaching up to gently brush a fleck of white plaster from her shoulder. "I'm never letting you go."
