Free Web NovelChapter 151: Chapter 151: Collateral Valuation
The heavy adrenaline from the firefight finally began to recede, leaving behind the cold, stinging reality of their physical injuries. Inside the dim shadows of warehouse eighteen, Marcus carefully tore away the sleeve of Alexander’s shirt, using a clean tactical pressure bandage from his emergency kit to tightly wrap the gunshot wound on Alexander’s right shoulder.
"Hold still," stated Marcus, his voice a low, steady murmur as he yanked the fabric tight to secure the dressing.
Alexander gritted his teeth, a sharp, guttural hiss escaping his lips before he forced his features back into a calm, emotionless mask. He glanced over his shoulder toward the back of the Mercedes, where Serena was currently sitting. She was completely uninjured, though her eyes were wide, puffy from crying, and staring blankly at her lap in a state of quiet shock.
"She’s fine," stated Alexander, his voice dropping into a low register so it wouldn’t carry. "Just terrified out of her mind. She didn’t receive a single scratch."
"Good," muttered Marcus, wiping a streak of dark soot and blood from his own forehead. "Because if she had, Ms. Gable would have skinned both of us alive before the Sinclairs even got the chance."
Alexander let out a dry, hollow laugh, his dark eyes shifting toward the front entrance of the facility, where the crushed, smoking wreckage of the yellow sports car sat completely unrecognizable.
"That was a complete waste of a perfect Corvette, Marcus," stated Alexander.
Marcus let out a loud, amused bark of laughter, completely unfazed by the destruction of his luxury vehicle. "Haha! Don’t worry about the car, old friend. With what I’m going to earn from completing this specific mission, I’ll be able to buy an entire fleet of brand-new ones without even denting my account."
Alexander raised an eyebrow, his left hand gently adjusting the tight bandage on his arm. "Why exactly is that? How much is this job even worth?"
"You seriously don’t know who the close friend of Professor Isabella is?" asked Marcus, a knowing, dangerous smirk spreading across his face.
"No," stated Alexander, his brow furrowing slightly. "I have absolutely no idea."
"Then the exact moment you find out, you’ll understand completely," stated Marcus, his tone turning sharp and professional as he picked up his heavy tactical pistol from the hood of the truck. "For now, we need to move and go get Emma. I highly doubt the rest of the Sinclair crew is expecting you to have completely eliminated their entire elite security squad in less than ten minutes. We still have the element of surprise."
They walked back over to the Mercedes. Despite the intense chase and crashing through the perimeter fence, the heavy luxury vehicle was still entirely functional. The engine idled smoothly, and the only significant damage was the shattered passenger-side window. Marcus quickly used the butt of his weapon to clear out the remaining shards of loose glass from the frame, wiping the leather seat clean with a rag.
Serena silently climbed into the back seat, wrapping her arms tightly around herself and pulling her ruined school skirt down, completely submissive and quiet for the first time in her life.
Marcus smoothly slid into the driver’s seat, taking over the controls, while Alexander occupied the co-pilot’s position, his left hand resting near his hidden weapon as the vehicle slowly rolled out of the ruined warehouse and back into the dark, desolate streets of the industrial district.
The Mercedes smoothly glided into a dark, recessed alleyway just a block away from the main warehouse where the Sinclair coupe had originally parked. Marcus killed the engine and the headlights, plunging the interior of the car into total shadow.
In the back seat, Serena instinctively curled tighter into herself, her wide, terrified eyes shifting rapidly between the shattered glass of the passenger window and the pitch-black structures outside. Her breathing became shallow and erratic.
"Alex... Marcus..." whispered Serena, her voice trembling violently as she reached forward to grab the edge of the driver’s seat. "Please don’t leave me alone. What if more of those men come back?"
Alexander turned around in his seat, his face a pale, serious mask as he looked at her.
"I’m staying right here with you, Serena," stated Alexander, his voice a low, steady melody that carried an absolute, calming authority. "I’m injured, so I’ll maintain a defensive perimeter around the vehicle. No one is getting anywhere near this car. You are completely safe."
Serena let out a shaky breath, nodding frantically as she let go of the seat and pressed her back against the far door, finding a small shred of comfort in his unyielding presence.
Marcus checked the magazine of his heavy tactical pistol, sliding it smoothly into his holster before turning to look at his old friend. "Keep your eyes open, Alex. If you hear anything, get her out of here immediately."
"Go," stated Alexander, giving him a brief, firm nod. "Bring the girl back." freēwebnovel.com
Marcus slipped out of the driver’s seat, closing the door with an almost imperceptible click. The moment his boots hit the asphalt, he became a shadow, moving with a lethal, silent grace that completely contradicted his massive frame. He slipped through the darkness, effortlessly navigating the blind spots between the rusted storage containers until he reached the rear entrance of the primary shipping depot.
The heavy steel door was slightly ajar, a thin sliver of warm yellow light cutting through the gloom. Marcus pressed his back against the corrugated metal wall, tilting his head to listen to the acoustics of the interior.
"...should have checked in by now," a rough, annoyed voice echoed from deep within the warehouse. "The boss took two trucks to flush out that bastard in the Mercedes. It shouldn’t be taking this long."
"Relax, they probably just ran him off the road and are cleaning up the mess," a second voice replied, followed by the distinct sound of a lighter flicking. "The girl isn’t going anywhere anyway."
Marcus didn’t wait to hear the rest. He smoothly glided through the opening, his boots making absolutely zero sound against the concrete floor. The interior was cluttered with massive wooden crates and heavy industrial machinery, creating a perfect tactical labyrinth.
Through the gaps in the cargo, Marcus spotted the two remaining Sinclair guards. They were standing near a small, makeshift office enclosure in the center of the floor. Inside the glass-walled room, Emma was tied tightly to a wooden chair, a thick piece of duct tape covering her mouth, her eyes wide and red from crying.
Marcus leveled his heavy weapon, his dark eyes locking onto the targets with a cold, predatory focus.
BANG! BANG!
The silent air was instantly shattered by two thunderous reports. The first guard, who was actively taking a drag from his cigarette, took a high-caliber round straight through the center of his forehead, his body collapsing backward onto a stack of pallets like a sack of bricks. The second guard barely had time to register the spray of blood before the second bullet tore violently through his throat, sending him to the floor in a wet, choking gasp.
Marcus didn’t lower his weapon. He marched forward with a relentless, mechanical stride, his boots stepping right over the pooling blood as he kicked the office door open wide.
Emma let out a muffled, terrified shriek, flinching violently as the massive, blood-stained figure stepped into the room.
"Calm down, Emma," stated Marcus, his voice turning into a deep, reassuring rumble as he smoothly drew a tactical knife from his belt. "Your mother sent me. You’re completely safe now."
With a swift, practiced motion, he sliced through the heavy ropes binding her wrists and ankles, gently peeling the tape from her mouth. The moment she was free, Emma collapsed forward, sobbing uncontrollably as Marcus firmly grabbed her arm, lifting her up and guiding her rapidly out into the dark night, heading straight back toward the safety of the Mercedes.
