Chapter 7 - The Ambush at the Bridge
It was a crisp Tuesday morning in October.
Della was six months pregnant now, her bump visibly round and beautiful. She was sitting in the back of an armored SUV, accompanied by two of Jaxson's top security guards, heading toward St. Jude’s Hospital for her routine mid-trimester ultrasound.
Jaxson had wanted to accompany her, but an urgent crisis at his downtown port terminals had forced him to attend an emergency meeting.
"We'll take the scenic route across the Hudson Bridge today, Miss Marsh," the driver, a seasoned veteran named Leo, mentioned warmly. "Less traffic this time of morning."
"That sounds lovely, Leo," Della smiled, rubbing her stomach. "The baby has been kicking all morning. I think she knows we're going to see her on the screen today."
As the heavy SUV reached the middle of the suspension bridge spanning over the misty waters of the Hudson River, a sudden, heavy construction truck slammed its brakes directly in front of them, blocking both lanes.
"What the...?" Leo muttered, hitting the brakes.
Before Leo could reverse, a heavy black pickup truck sped up from behind, slamming hard into the rear bumper of their SUV, trapping them completely in the middle of the bridge.
"Ambush! Get down!" Leo yelled, drawing his sidearm.
From the construction truck and the pickup, six armed men in black tactical gear and ski masks jumped out, firing heavy automatic rifles directly at the SUV’s bulletproof glass.
The heavy glass held, cracking under the terrifying hail of lead, but the kinetic impact shook the vehicle violently. Della screamed, dropping to the floorboards of the backseat, clutching her belly in absolute terror.
"Command, this is Unit One! We are under heavy fire on Hudson Bridge! Need immediate air support!" the security guard in the passenger seat yelled into his radio comms.
Inside his high-rise office in Manhattan, Jaxson was listening to the radio feed connected directly to his earpiece.
The moment he heard Della's terrified scream through the comms, his blood ran cold. The glass of whiskey in his hand shattered as his grip tightened instinctively.
"Marcus!" Jaxson roared, standing up with an aura of absolute fury that made the entire boardroom tremble. "Get the chopper on the roof! Now!"
Back on the bridge, the attackers were using a heavy hydraulic ram to smash through the driver's side door of the armored SUV. Leo fought bravely, firing through the narrow window slits, but he was eventually overwhelmed by gas grenades thrown under the vehicle.
Thick smoke filled the cabin. Coughing, dizzy, and suffocating, Della felt the side door ripped open. Heavy hands grabbed her arms, dragging her out into the cold wind of the bridge.
"Got the girl! Move! Move!" a masked man shouted, hoisting Della toward a waiting speedboat docked near the bridge pillar below.
Della fought with everything she had, kicking and scratching. "Let me go! My baby! Don't touch me!"
"Shut up, bitch!" one of the men snarled, raising his hand to strike her.
THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD!
The deafening roar of helicopter blades cut through the sky above the bridge.
A sleek, pitch-black military chopper descended low over the water, hovering less than twenty feet above the bridge deck.
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Before the chopper even stabilized, the side door flew open. A figure clad in dark tactical gear stepped out onto the landing skid—and jumped directly onto the roof of the pickup truck below.
Jaxson Thorne landed with brutal precision, drawing two heavy sidearms before he even stood upright.
