Chapter 5 - The Reckoning of Ironwood Bay"Turn that off!" Mayor Thomas screamed, his face turning the color of a ripe plum as he lunged toward the projector control panel.
He didn't make it three steps before one of the federal marshals stepped into his path, flashing a golden shield and a cold, federal stare.
"Federal Marshals, Mr. Mayor," Agent Miller—the real federal investigator, not the corrupt local police chief—announced loudly, his voice cutting through the panic of the crowd. "We have warrants for the arrest of Victor Vance, Mayor Thomas, and Chief Miller on charges of federal racketeering, drug trafficking, and conspiracy to commit murder."
Chaos broke out.
Two local patrolmen—bribed regulars on Victor's payroll—instantly reached for their sidearms, but before their holsters cleared, Silas’s two mastiffs lunged forward with a terrifying roar, pinning both officers against the mahogany bar with jaws clamped inches from their throats. The cops froze, their hands shooting straight up into the air.
Victor Vance realized the game was over.
With a wild, desperate snarl, he shoved past a terrified socialite, pulled a concealed 9mm pistol from his shoulder holster, and lunged directly toward Nora, raising the barrel straight at her chest.
"You little bitch!" Victor screamed, his face twisted in psychotic fury. "If I'm going down, you're coming with me!"
Before Nora could even draw breath, before her mind could process the danger, a black blur launched across the ballroom floor.
Silas Cade didn't walk; he flew.
With the explosive speed of a man half his age, Silas slammed his massive shoulder directly into Victor’s midsection just as the trigger was pulled. The bullet cracked through the air, shattering a crystal chandelier overhead and raining glass across the floor.
Victor crashed hard onto the polished hardwood, the pistol flying from his grip and skittering across the room.
Silas was on top of him in a heartbeat.
He didn't use a weapon. He didn't need one. With two thick, calloused hands, Silas grabbed Victor by the lapels of his expensive Italian suit, hauled him off the floor, and slammed him against the massive glass window overlooking the dark waters of the bay.
The glass spider-webbed outward under the impact.
"You tried to freeze me," Silas whispered, his voice dangerously low, vibrating with a fury that made everyone in the room stop breathing. "You tried to steal my town. And most unforgivable of all... you killed a good man named Caleb Wick."
"Silas... please—" Victor choked out, his feet dangling six inches off the floor, his hands clawing desperately at Silas's wrists.
"The tide's coming in, Victor," Silas said, staring into the terrified eyes of his former protege. "And for the first time in thirty years, I'm not going to save you."
With a final, brutal shove, Silas shattered the glass window outward.
Before Victor could scream, the federal marshals rushed forward, hauling the screaming, thrashing criminal out of the broken frame and slapping steel handcuffs onto his wrists right there on the icy balcony as the cold Atlantic wind whipped through the ballroom.
Silence fell over the room once more—heavy, absolute, and terrified.
May you like
Silas stepped back from the broken window, smoothing the lapels of his tuxedo. He turned around, his dark eyes scanning the room of corrupt politicians, bribed cops, and trembling businessmen.
"The meeting is adjourned," Silas said quietly.
