Chapter 49: Rescue, Being Rescued, and the Unexpected

Owen's escape wasn't going smoothly. The front entrance was out of the question with the gunfight raging outside, so he opted for the back door. Unfortunately, that route wasn't any safer. The club was full of employees and customers who had been caught off guard by the chaos.

Though Owen and the female assassin had moved quickly, killing their way up to the fourth floor and rescuing Kim, few inside the club had noticed them. However, the fierce gun battle outside changed everything. The sound of rapid gunfire, like something out of a Hollywood blockbuster, sent people screaming and fleeing in all directions.

Owen planned to blend in with the panicking crowd and sneak out the back, but his luck ran out when he ran into Mark. The gang leader had retreated to the back door in a panic, shaken by the firefight outside. Unfortunately for Owen, Mark immediately recognized Kim. After all, Mark had personally selected and delivered her to the club.

The moment Mark laid eyes on Kim, he assumed Owen was Bryan. Owen had a gun, was protecting the girl, and clearly fit the description from Ken—he had to be the one responsible for all this.

Rage boiled over in Mark. His gang was finished. Their years of work, connections, and influence had crumbled in a single night. He knew that even if some of his men survived, the French government would come down on them hard. Everything they'd built had been destroyed because of this man.

Without hesitation, Mark opened fire.

Owen didn't see him right away, but fortunately, they were still surrounded by a crowd. Several unfortunate bystanders took the bullets meant for them, giving Owen and Kim a moment to take cover behind the door.

Mark's sneak attack had failed, but he and his men now blocked the back exit, hiding behind a car. The standoff began, gunfire echoing through the corridor as Mark's men sprayed bullets indiscriminately into the fleeing crowd. More people were killed or injured in the chaos.

Owen shielded Kim, returning fire whenever he had a chance. But both sides were entrenched behind cover, and Owen's average marksmanship didn't give him much of an edge.

Owen's phone buzzed. It was Bryan.

"Where are you?" Bryan asked.

"I'm stuck at the back door. Mark and his men have us pinned down."

"How's Kim?"

"She's okay, just shaken."

"Hold tight. I'm coming."

Less than a minute later, a Mercedes roared down the street, speeding past the ongoing shootout at the club's main entrance. Bryan was behind the wheel, steering with practiced ease. His years of special operations training showed as he expertly maneuvered the car, drifting it around corners and accelerating toward the back entrance.

From a distance, Bryan spotted Mark and his men firing from behind a car. He also saw someone occasionally peeking out from the doorway to return fire—likely Owen.

Bryan knew immediately who the enemy was. He yanked the steering wheel hard, sending the car into a controlled drift. The tires screeched as the vehicle hurtled toward Mark's position.

CRUNCH!

Mark and one of his men barely had time to turn before they were struck by the car and sent flying. Neither survived the impact. Bryan's car skidded to a halt, and he leaned out of the window, pistol in hand. Without aiming, he fired a series of rapid shots.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The remaining gunman took several bullets to the chest and collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

"Get in!" Bryan shouted.

Owen and Kim hurried down the stairs, but instead of getting into Bryan's car, Owen led Kim to another vehicle nearby. It was already running, likely abandoned by someone fleeing the chaos.

"Stay down!" Owen instructed, pushing Kim's head low before slamming his foot on the gas. The tires screeched as the car accelerated.

The GIPN had just finished mopping up the Albanian gang members outside and was now sending reinforcements toward the back entrance. Hearing the renewed gunfire, some of the officers turned their attention to the commotion and began closing in.

Now it was a free-for-all: the remnants of the Albanian gang, Bryan, Owen, and the police were all engaged in a chaotic fight.

Owen's car sped through the back exit, bullets pinging off the body as he floored the gas pedal. Bryan's Mercedes followed close behind. Police bullets riddled both cars but failed to stop their escape.

"Follow me!" Bryan shouted from his car, pulling ahead to lead the way. He wanted to guide Owen to safety and ensure they reached the airport, where Cynthia was waiting to fly them back to the U.S.

But Owen suddenly slammed on the brakes. "Wait!"

Bryan's car skidded to a stop. He watched in disbelief as Owen veered off the road, driving onto a nearby field. "What the hell are you doing?"

Owen had spotted the female assassin pinned down by GIPN officers. They were using coordinated fire tactics, taking turns suppressing her position behind a wall. Even while reloading, the officers covered one another seamlessly, leaving her no room to escape.

"I owe her," Owen muttered to himself.

He accelerated toward the GIPN team, firing several shots into the air around them. His goal wasn't to kill—he couldn't bring himself to shoot fellow law enforcement—but to create a distraction.

The officers scrambled for cover, momentarily disoriented by the sudden attack from behind. Seizing the opportunity, the assassin darted out from her hiding spot and leapt into a ditch.

Just as Owen wondered what she would do next, a motorcycle roared to life. The assassin, now wearing a helmet, sped across the field, leaving the GIPN officers far behind.

"You owe me one!" Owen shouted after her, though he wasn't sure if she heard him.

Owen returned to the road, racing to catch up with Bryan. The sound of sirens blared behind them as more police cars joined the chase. Their situation had worsened. If Owen hadn't intervened, they might have already been in the clear. Now, they had a convoy of police vehicles on their tail.

The dark countryside offered little visibility aside from the beams of their headlights. The flashing red and blue lights behind them stood out in the gloom as bullets continued to ping off the cars.

Bryan's car took the brunt of the assault. He stayed behind Owen's vehicle, using his armored Mercedes to shield Kim from the incoming fire.

But even a reinforced car had its limits. Suddenly, Bryan's vehicle veered wildly. The rear wheels locked up, causing the car to spin 360 degrees before flipping multiple times down the road.

"Bryan!" Owen shouted, slamming on his brakes. In the darkness, he could barely make out the overturned vehicle. Its headlights cast strange angles on the ground. The police sirens grew louder, closing in fast.

Owen faced a dilemma. Returning to help Bryan would mean a direct confrontation with the police—and possibly getting captured. But he couldn't just leave. Amanda and Kim were depending on him, and Bryan had risked everything to save them.

Gritting his teeth, Owen made his decision. "We're going back," he told Kim.

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