Chapter 57 57

Chapter 57 57
Dominic's POV

I was flung off the hospital bed with such force by the explosion. The chain to the handcuffs that had held me prisoner broke from their impact, even having been designed never meant to be subject to something so destructive they made instantly short work of it. I went crashing to the floor, landing right on my wounded shoulder, which shrieked in new agony. I couldn’t breathe for a moment, could not think through the pain I felt in every part of my body.

Smoke filled the room at once, acrid and stifling. Over the fog I could hear gunfire. not just single shots of a pistol, but the constant clatter of automatic weapons. Shouting in multiple languages. Screams of pain and terror. This wasn't a simple attack. This was war at the doorstep of a civilian hospital.

I was caught napping on the floor by the door. Dead or unconscious, I wouldn't know and couldn't afford to check. I half-kneeled and crawled toward him, each of those tiny movements sending new daggers of pain coursing through my shoulder and the dozen other ouchies I had managed to collect. Removed his service weapon from his holster. Checked the chamber. Loaded and ready. At least I had that much.

I leveraged up on the bed frame, my legs wobbly under me. The hospital gown, the only item of clothing I had on, was piss poor for protection and didn’t even have any pockets or a way to carry extra rounds or supplies. Just the gun in my hand and whatever rounds were in it. That would have to be enough.

I managed to stagger toward the door, I had to concentrate on every single step. The hall beyond was complete pandemonium. Staff members were evacuating patients, some in wheelchairs, some on gurneys, a few walking under their own power. Smoke filled the corridor. Emergency lights flashed, creating a strobed effect that made it difficult to gauge motion.

And, in the midst of this confusion, from amidst the throng of Homo Novus, passed armed men like sharks through a shoal of fish. Not police. Not federal agents. Cassius’s men, here to complete what they had started at Grant Park.

I backed into my room, flattening myself against the wall by the door. The wall-of-glass window had been totally blown out by the blast, pieces of glass littering the floor and wind screaming through the opening. I was on the fourth floor, too high to jump without either killing myself or breaking so many bones that surviving wouldn’t be worth it.

The door was the only way out. Which also meant doing the men who came to kill me personally. I tested the gun again, not a surprise for me after all. One clip of ammunition. Maybe fifteen rounds total. Against how many attackers?

I could hear footsteps in the hallway. Several people moving not in panic but with military precision. Printed voices speaking Italian -- Cassius's background, his taste for soldiers from the old country who retained old-fashioned values.

“Fourth floor, room 412. The target is there.”

This was it. Now they were coming for me. I flattened right up to the doorframe, hand on my gun and gun pointed toward the open door, remember to breath in slow deep breathes as adrenaline pumped like I was a water main burst. And waiting, with what a predator must take for patience.

The door burst inwards, kicked off its hinges. Three men came in, and entered with tactical precision– professional, veteran, lethal. I was able to shoot the first before he had completely cleared the entrance. Center mass, two quick shots. He fell all at once, the gun in his hand clunking to the floor.

The second man was already turning toward the gunfire. I shot him a couple times too, two bullets that actually hit home. He reeled back but did not go down right away.

The third man took cover behind the flipped hospital bed and fired back as he ran. A bullet grazed my leg, tearing through fabric and flesh in a line of flame. Just another to add to my collection. I rolled into cover behind the wrecked medical equipment cart, attempting to get a line of sight on the shooter.

Blind firing around the corner, I just wanted to keep him down and not advancing on me. Heard a grunt of pain, at least one blow had landed. But he wasn’t down, wasn’t out of the fight.

More footsteps in the hallway. Reinforcements coming for their team. I was stuck in this room, outnumbered, hurt, low on ammo. This could very well be the way I died, bleeding to death in some hospital gown, while struggling for breath and to stay alive after someone attempted a political assassination in what should have been a safe federal building.

Then I heard different gunfire. The identifiable sound of police-issued weapons, various calibers and fire rates from what the attackers were wielding. As for the federal agents responding to the assault at last? Or something else?

The third man in the room raised up to face this new danger, momentarily taking his eyes off me. I did not pause, I gave him no opportunity to realize his error. Two rounds to him from my cover. He went down and stayed down.

I backed toward the door wall for support as the wound on my leg began to flow openly with blood. From out of the smoke and destruction, I saw Xavier was leading a squad of my own men who were attacking Cassius's people with far too much coordinated violence to come from anyone other than decades of working together.
"Dom! You hit?" Xavier hollered when he saw me.

"I'm fine!" Yah I am very fit, right there bleeding from numerous places and can hardly stand.
"You look like absolute shit!"

"Thanks for the timely rescue!" I also found time to return fire when one of Cassius' men attempted to flank Xavier.

More blasts shook the building, separate ones on different floors. The whole hospital was under attack. This was not merely an assassin’s attempt; this was a wholesale military assault designed to cause the maximum chaos and confusion.

Xavier seized my arm and dragged me down the hall, half-supporting me. "We have to get you out of this place as soon as possible. The whole place is compromised."

"Where's Vivian?"

"Outside with guards. She's safe for now." We reached the stairwell access. "But we need to—"

Xavier stopped abruptly. I looked to where he was looking, and despite the adrenaline I felt the blood in me running cold.

Cassius was blocking our only way out, winding the stairwell. He had a gun, and blood on his shirt that appeared to be from a shoulder wound. But he was on his feet, armed, with that same goddamned grin of all-consuming confidence that I wanted to wipe from his face forever.

"Going somewhere, DeLaurentis?"

We stood facing one another perhaps ten feet apart. Both of us armed. Each of us bleeding from a number of them. Both of us wanting to end this war that had swallowed everything.

“This ends today,” I announced, unsteady but not reeling in pain.

"Agreed. With you dead and your empire part of mine.”

"You first, Cassius."

We started moving in a circle around each other, arms raised but not shooting. Xavier had his gun pointed at Cassius, but I saw some of Cassius's men arriving behind us on three sides – blocking escape. It’s like standing in a Mexican standoff with you and the enemy pointing guns at each other.

"Let's make it more interesting," Cassius said, grinning. "One on one. You and me. Hand to hand. Winner takes everything."

"What's everything?"

"Your empire. Your businesses. Your territory. Your life." He paused deliberately. "Your wife."

“She’s not part of the negotiation.”

You play for keeps, DeLaurentis, and everything’s on the table. That's the game we chose."

My jaw clenched. I knew it was a trap, knew Cassius would cheat in some way. But I also knew this was the only way to put an end to things once and for all. "Fine. You and me. No weapons. No interference."

“Dom, don’t—” Xavier began to protest.

“It’s the only way this doesn’t end with everyone in this building getting killed.” I looked at Xavier directly. "Stand down. Let us finish this."

Cassius slowly lowered his gun, setting it on the ground. I echoed that sentiment, though every instinct told me this was a bad idea. Our blokes parted and narrowed their circle of dust.

"Hand to hand," Cassius confirmed. "Though you're already wounded. Hardly seems fair."

"So are you. Evens the odds enough."

We circled one another in the narrow stairwell. And then in almost a blur of swift speed, Cassius surged forward with dangerous quickness, violent and fast even as he himself was dealt harm. I only just about managed to parry the first swing, the injury in my shoulder slowing me down.

He hit me right on one of my shoulder wounds. The agony was searing, total, whiting out my vision for a moment. I staggered backward, nearly falling on the stairs.

Cassius pushed the advantage and struck me again to the ribs. I felt something crack, that my already-broken ribs from past injuries were breaking more. I dropped to my knees, struggling to keep conscious through the crippling pain, and I watched the door for the stairwell blast open.

Vivian materialized, her eyes so big with shock and horror when she saw everything. "Dominic!"

Cassius caught my lapse Caused it to put us ahead. His hand snaked down to his ankle and drew a concealed knife I had never seen or expected. He slid it across, towards my chest, with a practiced thrust to the heart.

Vivian screamed. It all happened in terrible slow motion and I saw the blade coming down toward my chest but understood that I didn’t have time to move quickly enough to make a difference.