Chapter 3 - THE ENVELOPE WITH MY NAME
The sharp sound of gunfire echoed from three floors below, followed by the distant screams of medical staff and the shattering of glass windows. The Iron Scythes were not here to negotiate; they were here to wipe out the last loose thread of Luke's legacy.
"Can you walk, civilian?" Jax demanded, checking the cylinder of his heavy revolver.
I ripped the IV line from the back of my hand, ignoring the sharp sting of blood, and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. My body ached, my ribs felt like they were wrapped in barbed wire, but adrenaline flooded my veins, burning away the pain.
"I can run," I said, scooping Leo up into my arms and holding him tight against my chest. "Where's the exit?"
"Main lobby is compromised," Jax said, stepping to the door and peering out into the hallway. "We take the service elevator down to the basement morgue. My boys have two bikes and a chase truck parked in the loading dock."
We burst out into the hallway just as two men in heavy tactical jackets and helmet visors rounded the far corner, bearing the jagged red scythe crest on their sleeves.
"There's the kid!" one of them shouted, raising a silenced submachine gun.
Jax didn't hesitate. He stepped into the center of the corridor, his massive revolver barking twice with deafening, cannon-like roars. The heavy rounds struck the attackers in the chest, throwing them backward into a row of food carts.
"Move! Move!" Jax bellowed, ushering us toward the heavy steel doors of the service corridor.
We sprinted down the narrow, dimly lit hallway, the smell of cordite mixing with the sterile scent of the hospital. Leo buried his face into the crook of my neck, holding the silver locket tightly in his small fist, trusting me completely despite the madness unfolding around us.
We reached the service elevator, and Jax slammed his thumb against the call button. The steel doors slid open with a agonizingly slow mechanical groan.
"Get inside!" Jax ordered, shoving me and Leo into the elevator cab.
Before Jax could step inside, the double doors at the end of the hallway blew inward with a terrifying explosion. A tall, gaunt man with a heavily tattooed face and a silver eye patch stepped through the smoke, holding a high-caliber assault rifle.
It was Victor Vance—the leader of the Iron Scythes.
"Jax!" Vance sneered, his voice raspy and cruel. "Hand over the boy, and I'll let you ride back to your clubhouse in one piece! That kid carries the encrypted access codes to Luke's offshore stash!"
"You'll get this kid over my dead body, Vance!" Jax roared, stepping backward into the elevator and hitting the basement button.
Vance raised his rifle, firing a burst of automatic rounds toward us. Jax threw his massive body forward, acting as a human shield. Two heavy rounds slammed into his shoulder and leather vest, making the giant groan in pain as the heavy steel doors finally slammed shut, severing the gunfire.
The elevator dropped rapidly toward the basement floor.
"Jax!" I caught the giant as his knees buckled, lowering him against the elevator wall. Blood was pooling rapidly beneath his leather vest.
"I'm fine... just a scratch..." Jax gritted out through clenched teeth, handing me a heavy set of keys from his belt. "Listen to me, kid... Luke didn't just leave you a nephew. He left a war. The Scythes want the drive hidden inside that silver locket..."
I looked down at the scratched locket in Leo's hand, my heart plummeting into my stomach.
May you like
"The photograph..." I murmured.
"It's not just a photograph," Jax rasped, coughing up blood. "There's a micro-SD chip hidden behind your picture. It holds the evidence that can put Vance and his entire syndicate in federal prison for life. Luke died protecting it... now it's your turn."
