Chapter 5 - BLOOD ON THE VELVET SEATS
The suppressor rose toward Adrien’s chest.
Adrien didn't hesitate.
He shoved Isabella down between the two high-backed passenger seats.
The first shot made no more sound than a heavy staple gun piercing dry cardboard.
The bullet tore through the padded headrest where Adrien’s neck had been half a second before.
Foam and gray fabric erupted into the aisle.
Adrien dropped his weight low.
He drew his Kimber from beneath his coat.
He fired once through the thin metal base of the seat divider.
The heavy .45 round blew through the aluminum frame.
The gunman grunted as the bullet shattered his kneecap.
He collapsed sideways into the aisle.
Adrien stepped out into the corridor.
He didn't fire a second shot.
He kicked the shooter’s gun out of his hand, sending it skittering beneath the seats.
Adrien planted his heavy boot directly onto the man's crushed knee.
The gunman screamed, his face turning gray against the carpet.
"Who sent you?" Adrien asked softly.
The passenger car was dead quiet for two seconds before screaming broke out at the far end.
Commuters crawled over seats, scrambling toward the front cars in blind panic.
"Screw you, Voss," the hitman spat through clenched teeth.
Adrien leaned down.
He grabbed the man’s lapel and dragged him toward the sliding door.
"Daniel Mercer doesn't hire professionals," Adrien said.
"He hires desperate men from the South Boston docks."
Adrien checked the man’s wrist.
A tattoo of a black anchor crossed with a meat hook marked his inner forearm.
"Silas Vance's crew," Adrien murmured.
Isabella crawled out from beneath the seats.
Her face was chalk white.
"Adrien, there are more of them," she said, her voice shaking.
"On the train?"
"At the next crossing."
She grabbed his arm.
Her fingers dug through his torn wool sleeve.
"Mercer told Silas to stop the train at the industrial siding before the bridge."
"Why?"
"Because he needs the key."
Adrien looked down at her.
"The key to what, Isabella?"
She reached into her coat.
She pulled out a small brass chain worn around her neck, hidden beneath her blouse.
Hanging from the chain was a tiny, intricate silver key.
It was ancient.
Its teeth were shaped like the crest of the Voss family archive.
"Your father gave it to my mother ten years ago," she said.
Adrien stared at the silver metal.
His father had been buried six years ago.
The family vault had remained sealed ever since because the primary ledger key had vanished the night he died.
"Your mother was his housekeeper," Adrien said slowly.
"My mother was his confidante," she countered.
"And she died for it."
The train began to decelerate sharply.
Metal brakes squealed beneath the floorboards, throwing them forward against the seats.
The interior lights flickered twice and died.
Emergency red lamps clicked on, bathing the car in blood-red shadows.
Outside the windows, the city lights had vanished.
They had reached the salt marshes near the abandoned river bridge.
Three black SUVs were parked along the gravel service tracks, their high beams shining directly into the train windows.
Armed men in tactical gear were already stepping out into the freezing rain.
The conductor’s voice crackled through the overhead speakers, choked with terror:
"Train emergency... unauthorized personnel on the track..."
A gunshot blasted through the speaker.
The line went dead.
Adrien grabbed Isabella by the collar of her coat and pulled her toward the emergency exit window.
"Can you swim?" he asked.
She looked at the black river rushing sixty feet below the trestle bridge outside.
"In November?" she whispered.
Adrien smashed the red emergency lever with the butt of his gun.
"Better than bleeding out in an aisle."
The exterior doors hissed open.
The icy wind roared into the carriage, bringing the smell of salt marsh and sulfur.
A voice bellowed through an electric megaphone from the tracks below:
"VOSS! STEP OUT WITH THE GIRL AND THE KEY!"
May you like
It was Daniel Mercer’s voice.
"OR WE DERIS THE ENTIRE TRAIN INTO THE RIVER!"
