CHAPTER 6 : Blood and Chrome
The back doors of the diner were kicked open. Six massive chopper motorcycles roared to life inside the kitchen. The exhaust filled the diner with thick, blinding smoke. With a unified war cry, the bikers kicked their bikes into gear. But they didn't ride them. They ghost-rode them straight out the shattered front windows of the diner.
Six 800-pound missiles of chrome and gasoline launched out into the parking lot. The mercenaries outside were caught completely off guard. The bikes slammed into the black vans. One hit a fuel tank. An explosion rattled the diner windows, lighting up the rainy night with orange fire. "Now!" Arthur commanded.
Agent Vance and his men surged forward, using the smoke and fire as cover. They moved like ghosts, taking down the disoriented mercenaries one by one. Rex didn't stay behind. He grabbed his heavy steel chain and charged out into the rain. A mercenary aimed a rifle at Arthur’s back. Before he could pull the trigger, Rex swung the chain, wrapping it around the man’s weapon and ripping it from his hands. Arthur spun around, dropping the man with a single, precise strike from his cane.
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Grandfather and grandson. Fighting side by side in the pouring rain. The battle was brief, brutal, and decisive. Within ten minutes, the parking lot was quiet again. The mercenaries were zip-tied and disarmed. The threat that had haunted Arthur for forty years was finally neutralized.
Rex stood in the rain, panting, bleeding from a small cut on his cheek. Arthur walked up to him. He didn't say a word. He just reached out and pulled the boy into a tight, fierce hug. Rex froze for a second. He had never known his father. He had never had a man to look up to. Slowly, Rex wrapped his arms around the old man. The rain washed away the blood and the years of pain. "You did good, son," Arthur whispered. "David would be so proud of you."
