Chapter 11 - THE BROKEN SYRINGE
Frank’s finger tightened on the trigger.
Emma moved first.
She dropped straight down and drove her elbow into Frank’s knee.
The gun fired into the ceiling.
Dust and sparks rained down.
Emma rolled, grabbed the fallen pistol, and fired twice without aiming.
The first bullet struck the scarred man in the shoulder.
He dropped the syringe.
The second bullet tore through Isabella’s upper arm.
Isabella screamed and staggered back.
Emma ran for Ethan.
She sliced the ropes with a small folding knife from her pocket.
Ethan fell into her arms.
“Emma—”
“I’ve got you.”
Frank recovered and raised his weapon again.
Emma shoved Ethan behind a stack of rusted oil drums and returned fire.
Two more shots.
Frank ducked behind a concrete pillar.
Isabella crawled toward a side exit, blood soaking her sleeve.
The scarred man tried to stand.
Emma kicked the syringe away and pointed the pistol at his face.
“Stay down.”
Sirens wailed in the distance.
Miller’s voice came over a loudspeaker outside.
“NYPD! Drop your weapons!”
Frank cursed and ran for the back loading dock.
Isabella followed, clutching her arm.
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Emma did not chase them.
She held Ethan tight and waited for the tactical team to flood the warehouse.
