Chapter 4 - Blood in the Kitchen
The heavy metal door at the end of the tunnel was locked, but it was an old mechanical deadbolt, not the electronic system that had trapped them upstairs. Daniel stepped forward, raised his weapon, and fired two silenced rounds directly into the locking mechanism. The brass shattered. He kicked the door open.
They spilled out into the sprawling catering kitchens.
Natalie immediately realized something was terribly wrong. The kitchen should have been chaotic, filled with sixty chefs and servers plating the five-course dinner. Instead, it was dead silent. The massive stainless-steel prep tables were abandoned. Pots of water boiled over on the industrial stoves, hissing as water hit the open flames.
“Stay down,” Daniel hissed, pushing Natalie and Bianca behind a large walk-in refrigerator door.
Daniel took point, sweeping the room. The overhead fluorescent lights buzzed aggressively.
“Clear,” Daniel said, lowering his weapon slightly.
That was when the freezer door swung open.
Three men dressed in white chef coats stepped out. But they weren’t holding spatulas. They were holding suppressed submachine guns. They were Teresa’s men, disguised as catering staff, waiting to ambush anyone who tried to escape through the service route.
“Contact!” Daniel yelled, diving behind a prep table as the first volley of bullets tore through the kitchen.
Sparks flew as rounds ricocheted off the stainless steel counters. Pots and pans exploded, sending scalding water and hot oil spraying across the room. Natalie screamed, covering her head as she huddled beside a terrified Bianca.
Gabriel didn’t take cover. With terrifying speed, he grabbed a heavy cast-iron skillet from a nearby counter and hurled it with brutal force. It struck the lead gunman square in the face with a sickening crunch. As the man staggered back, Gabriel closed the distance, disarming the second gunman and using him as a human shield against the third.
The kitchen devolved into a brutal, close-quarters bloodbath. Daniel returned fire from cover, taking down the third man with two precise shots to the chest. Gabriel snapped the neck of the man he was holding, dropping him to the tiled floor.
Silence returned, save for the bubbling of the stoves and the harsh breathing of the men.
Natalie looked up, her hands trembling. Gabriel was covered in blood—not his own. His custom tuxedo was ruined. He looked down at the bodies, then picked up a dropped submachine gun, checking the magazine.
“They knew the escape routes,” Gabriel said. “My mother knows how I think. She knew I’d take the tunnels.”
Suddenly, the kitchen doors burst open. Five more men in suits spilled into the room, assault rifles raised. They had come from the loading dock. They were completely boxed in.
“Drop it, Gabriel!” the lead man shouted.
Daniel was out of position. Gabriel was caught in the open.
Natalie looked at the wall beside her. There, encased in glass, was the manual override for the kitchen’s industrial fire suppression system. The ANSUL system.
Without thinking, she grabbed a fire extinguisher from the floor and smashed the glass, pulling the heavy red lever.
Instantly, a deafening alarm blared. From the ceiling, high-pressure nozzles erupted, spraying thick, blinding, suffocating chemical foam across the entire kitchen. The air turned completely white.
The gunmen panicked, coughing and firing blindly into the thick chemical fog.
“Daniel, now!” Gabriel roared.
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Using the foam as cover, Gabriel and Daniel moved like ghosts. Natalie heard the sickening sounds of hand-to-hand combat, the thud of bodies hitting the slippery floor, and the finality of silenced gunshots. When the foam began to settle, Gabriel stood amidst the incapacitated men, looking at Natalie with a newfound respect.
“Not bad for a wedding planner,” Gabriel said.
