Chapter 11
The first pale streaks of gray light began to bleed through the heavy industrial smog over the river, signaling the arrival of dawn on Fifth Street. Inside Maria’s diner, the neon sign had finally sputtered out, leaving only the natural morning light to illuminate the exhausted faces of Leo and the elderly owner. Leo had spent the last three hours pacing the length of the linoleum floor, his phone buzzing incessantly with missed calls and panicked voice messages from his father, Thomas Vance.
"I have to call him," Leo whispered, his thumb hovering over the screen as another notification flashed across the display. "If Viktor is out there waiting for Maya, my dad needs to know what’s coming. He has to lock down the office!"
Maria reached across the counter and gently pressed her hand down over the phone screen, blocking his access. "If you call your father right now from an unsecured line, Viktor’s people will trace the signal before you finish your first sentence," Maria warned, her voice stern but laced with deep maternal concern. "Maya went out there to draw them away from you, kid. If you blow her cover now, everything she did tonight was for nothing."
Before Leo could argue, the heavy glass front door burst open.
It wasn't Maya.
Two men in dark hoodies stepped into the diner, their faces partially obscured by the morning fog rolling in behind them. They moved with terrifying speed and coordination. Before Leo could scream, the larger of the two vaulted over the low laminate counter, grabbing Maria by the shoulder and shoving her roughly against the back shelf, sending mugs and ceramic plates crashing to the floor in a shower of shards.
"Where is the boy?" the enforcer demanded, his voice a gravelly bark. "And where are the papers?"
Leo froze in terror, his back pressed hard against the vinyl booth. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. The nightmare of Division Alley had followed him indoors. The illusion of safety provided by the diner was instantly obliterated. The thugs weren't just looking for money anymore; they were here to clean up loose ends.
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Leo shouted, his voice cracking with panic as he instinctively grabbed a heavy glass ketchup bottle from the table, holding it like a club.
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The enforcer laughed—a dry, cruel sound—and took a heavy step toward the booth, his leather-gloved hand reaching out to grab Leo by the collar of his school uniform just like Marcus had done hours earlier. History threatened to repeat itself in the exact same brutal fashion.
Suddenly, a loud, metallic crash echoed from the alleyway outside the back service entrance. The heavy metal fire door buckled inward with a deafening screech, ripped entirely off its rusted hinges as if struck by a battering ram.
