Chapter 7 - The Syndicate’s Retaliation
Despite Marcus Kane being behind bars at the King County Correctional Facility, the shadow of his criminal past was not so easily erased.
Three weeks after the legal meeting, on a rainy Tuesday evening in late February, Nathan was driving his black Range Rover down the winding mountain pass road toward the valley. He had just finished a six-hour open-heart surgery at the hospital and was rushing home to make it in time for Lily’s sixth birthday dinner.
In the passenger seat sat a massive, three-tier birthday cake decorated with pink ice-skating princesses—Lily’s favorite.
As he rounded a sharp turn near Mile Marker 18, a heavy commercial flatbed truck parked crookedly across the dark road blocked both lanes.
Nathan slammed on his brakes, the SUV skidding to a halt thirty feet from the truck’s steel rear bumper.
Before he could put the vehicle in reverse, two sleek black sedans pulled up behind him, completely blocking his escape route.
Four men in dark rain jackets stepped out of the sedans, holding heavy iron pipes and tactical firearms.
Nathan’s heart hammered against his ribs, but he did not panic. He reached into his glove compartment, pulled out his Sig Sauer 9mm, and dialed Sheriff Vance’s direct line on his hands-free dashboard screen.
“James,” Nathan said calmly as the call connected. “I’m ambushed at Mile Marker 18. Four armed men. Blockade.”
“I’m dispatching four units now, Nathan! Hold on!” Vance shouted over the speaker.
The lead man stepped up to Nathan’s driver-side window, tapping the heavy iron pipe against the glass. The man had a deep scar running across his throat and wore a leather jacket with the insignia of the Cascades Loan Syndicate—the predatory criminal organization Marcus Kane owed two million dollars to.
Nathan rolled the window down two inches. “Can I help you?”
“Dr. Pierce,” the scarred man said, his voice raspy and cold. “Your brother-in-law, Marcus, owes our employer two point two million dollars. He told us your sister has a twenty-four million dollar trust sitting in a bank in Seattle.”
“Marcus is in prison,” Nathan said smoothly, keeping his gun hidden below the door line. “And that trust belongs to my sister and her children. You won't see a dime.”
The scarred man laughed, leaning his face close to the glass. “Marcus signed over his spousal claim to that trust to us yesterday in exchange for keeping him alive in county jail. You’re going to authorize a two million dollar transfer to an offshore account by midnight tonight, doctor... or we drive up to that pretty glass house of yours and visit your little niece.”
A cold, lethal fury exploded inside Nathan’s chest—a rage far deeper and more dangerous than anything he had ever felt in his life.
“You made a mistake coming here,” Nathan said softly.
Before the scarred man could react, Nathan raised his Sig Sauer and fired two rounds straight through the driver’s door panel, striking the man in both knees!
The man screamed, collapsing onto the wet asphalt!
Nathan shoved his SUV into reverse, slamming the gas pedal to the floor! The heavy Range Rover roared backward at forty miles an hour, smashing violently into the front of the lead black sedan, shoving it off the narrow mountain shoulder and into the deep snow ditch!
Gunfire erupted from the remaining syndicate members, bullets shattering the Rover’s rear glass!
Nathan spun the wheel, pulling the vehicle around the spinning sedan, gunning the engine down the narrow gravel service trail just as three marked police cruisers came screaming around the mountain bend with their sirens wailing!
Sheriff Vance’s cruiser cut off the remaining syndicate members, deputies pouring out with shotguns drawn, surrounding the ambushed criminals within seconds.
Nathan stopped his smoking SUV fifty yards down the trail, stepping out into the rain, looking back at the flashing police lights.
He walked over to his trunk, opened it, and checked the pink princess birthday cake.
It was slightly tilted, but completely undamaged.
May you like
Nathan wiped a smudge of rain from his forehead, let out a soft laugh, and got back into his car.
Nobody was going to ruin his niece’s birthday.
