Chapter 12 - A Race in the Snow
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The sickening crunch of Marcus’s arm bones was drowned out by his blood-curdling scream of agony as the mastiff drove him violently down the stone stairs.
The gun flew from Marcus’s shattered grip, clattering across the frozen gravel of the driveway.
The two private security guards reached for their holsters, but Brennan’s weapon was already leveled at the center of the lead guard’s chest.
“Move an inch and you die on this gravel,” Brennan roared, his voice carrying the authority of an executioner.
Before the guards could make a decision, the wailing sirens of three tactical law enforcement vehicles tore through the morning silence.
Headlights blazed through the snow flurries as the local sheriff’s tactical interceptors skidded across the drive, boxing in the three unauthorized SUVs.
Deputies in heavy armor spilled out of the cruisers, assault rifles raised, shouting commands that shattered the mountain quiet.
“Drop the weapons!”
“Get on the ground! Now!”
The two guards immediately threw their hands into the air, dropping to their knees on the frozen stone without firing a shot.
Atlas held Marcus pinned against the gravel, his jaws locked with relentless precision, growling so deeply that Marcus was sobbing in pure terror.
“Atlas, out,” Brennan commanded, his voice sharp and clear above the chaos.
The dog did not release immediately; he waited two agonizing seconds, glaring into Marcus’s terrified face, before releasing his hold and stepping back to Holly’s side.
Marcus lay curled on his side, clutching his mangled arm to his chest, his cashmere coat soaked in mud and blood.
“He tried to kill me!” Marcus wept, looking up at the approaching deputies with tears of pain streaming down his pale face.
“He sicked that monster on me!”
The county sheriff, a gray-haired veteran with a hardened face, stepped onto the porch and looked down at the fallen executive with utter contempt.
“Save it for the federal prosecutors, Marcus,” the sheriff said, motioning for the paramedics who were already pulling up behind the cruisers.
“We just raided your port office twenty minutes ago based on the files Brennan transferred to the district attorney at dawn.”
“They found the offshore ledger, and they found the duplicate keys to the scrap yard shipping containers.”
Two deputies hauled Marcus to his feet, slapping heavy steel handcuffs around his uninjured wrist while a medic wrapped a tourniquet around his shattered arm.
As they dragged him toward the back of a police cruiser, Marcus locked eyes with Holly, his face twisted in venomous hatred.
“You ruined everything!” he spat through his chattering teeth.
Holly stood her ground on the top step, the November wind whipping her dark hair around her shoulders as she looked down at the fallen titan.
“No,” she said, her voice calm, clear, and steady.
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“The dog you tried to kill two years ago did that all on his own.”
Atlas leaned his heavy head against Holly’s hip, letting out a soft, triumphant huff of air as the cruiser doors slammed shut, ending Marcus’s reign forever.
