Chapter 9 - The Siege of Lake Cadott
The cabin was surrounded. Bullets tore through the wooden walls, shattering glass, splintering beams, and turning the cozy interior into a death trap.
Vincent’s four tactical men returned fire through the broken windows, keeping the Ironhead mercenaries at bay, but they were vastly outnumbered five to one.
"Boss! We can't hold out here!" Tony yelled, reloading his rifle while pinned against the kitchen counter. "They have heavy automatic weapons! The helicopter can't get back in here under anti-air fire!"
Vincent sat crouched behind the heavy stone chimney, holding the silver flash drive tightly in his gloved fist. His mind was racing, but there was no fear in his eyes. Only calculating, lethal focus.
"Tony," Vincent said calmly over the deafening noise of gunfire. "What’s behind this cabin?"
"The lake, Boss! Deep water, freezing cold!"
"Good," Vincent said. He pulled out a satellite radio from his vest. "Frank, do you read me?"
At the estate back in Chicago, Frank’s voice came through the speaker, crisp and clear. "I read you, Boss! What’s your status?"
"We are pinned at the cabin by Victor Vane and thirty shooters," Vincent reported calmly. "I have the master ledger in my hand. I am transmitting the encrypted files to your terminal right now via satellite sync."
"Boss! What are you going to do?!" Frank demanded, sounding panicked for the first time in his life.
"I’m going to end this," Vincent said. "Once the file reaches you, upload it directly to the Director of the FBI, the State Police, and every news anchor in Chicago. Expose every corrupt politician, every dirty cop, and every Ironhead asset on that list."
"Consider it done, Mr. Torino!" Frank shouted. "Hold on! We’re sending air support!"
Vincent cut the comms. He looked at Tony and his remaining men. "We push out through the back door toward the dock. We force them into the open."
"Boss, that’s suicide!" Tony protested.
"No," Vincent smiled grimly. "It’s a trap."
Vincent pulled a heavy smoke grenade from his tactical belt, pulled the pin, and tossed it into the center of the living room. Dense white smoke poured out of the windows and doors, blinding the attackers outside.
"Now! Go!" Vincent commanded.
They kicked open the back door, sprinting out onto the wooden dock under the cover of thick smoke.
Victor Vane, seeing the smoke, thought they were fleeing. "Suppress them! Don't let Torino reach the water!" Victor roared, leading his men forward into the open clearing near the dock.
That was his fatal mistake.
As Victor and his twenty remaining men crowded onto the shoreline, the roar of twin jet engines tore through the clouds above.
Two heavy, militarized combat helicopters—belonging to Vincent’s high-end private security firm—descended through the mist, their blinding floodlights illuminating the shoreline like high noon.
"Drop your weapons!" a loudspeaker boomed from the lead chopper.
Before Victor could react, heavy automatic cannons fired from the helicopters, laying down a devastating line of warning fire into the mud inches from the mercenaries' feet, blowing their weapons out of their hands with sheer concussive force.
The mercenaries instantly threw their hands in the air, dropping to their knees in terror.
Victor Vane stood alone in the mud, covered in dirt, his rifle lying three feet away, staring up at the giant war machines hovering above him in utter disbelief.
Vincent walked down the dock, his heavy boots clicking on the wet wood. He stepped off onto the shore, walking directly up to Victor Vane.
Victor looked at Vincent, his eyes wide with frantic, pathetic fear. "Vincent... wait! Please! We can share it! The ledger... we can use it to control the whole state! We can make billions!"
Vincent stopped inches from Victor. He looked down at the man who had ordered the beating of an innocent mother, who had terrorized a seven-year-old child, who had tried to turn Chicago into his personal slaughterhouse.
"You never understood power, Victor," Vincent said softly. "Power isn't about fear. It's about what you are willing to protect."
Vincent raised his gun and fired a single shot into the ground between Victor's feet.
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At that exact moment, the siren of twenty State Police cruisers and FBI vehicles echoed through the woods, their red and blue lights flashing through the trees.
"I didn't need to kill you, Victor," Vincent said, turning his back on his enemy. "The law is going to do it for me."
