BANG! BANG! BANG!
Bullets ripped through the water overhead, and the noise got muffled by the river's heavy current. They were still deadly, even under the surface. One stray round could end everything in a heartbeat.
But Daniel and Felicia Hardy weren't ordinary people.
Inside the sinking Lincoln, darkness closed in around them, but both stayed calm as the river pressed tighter, the car slipping deeper by the second.
Daniel acted first, moving with sharp, practiced speed. He popped free a round from the pistol's magazine and shoved it into the bullet hole he'd blown in the car's body earlier. Water, once gushing in, slowed to a trickle as the plug held.
Outside, the chaos became distant—a rhythm of bullets pinging off armored steel, dulled by the water. It sounded far off now.
Felicia forced herself to breathe steadily. Her heartbeat pounded in her chest, adrenaline buzzing, but her focus locked on Daniel.
"Daniel," she whispered, fighting to keep her voice level, "what next?"
He scanned the car. Seals were failing everywhere; thin streams trailed down from windows and door seams. "We've got maybe ten minutes of air left," he said quietly. "Probably less. The car's good, but not after that crash."
He watched the rear window as more shots thudded against it—no cracks, not yet. The armor was holding. For the moment.
"If we go up now," he said, "we'll surface right into gunfire."
Felicia nodded, hugging herself against the creeping cold. "And if we wait too long, we drown."
Daniel nodded. "We're sinking fast. When we hit the right depth in a few minutes, that's when we move."
She shot him a shaky smile. "Assuming I can keep up."
He arched his brows. "Can you?"
"If you can, I can," she replied, voice brittle but defiant.
He smiled, impressed with her spirit, even if he saw her hands tremble. Felicia Hardy was brave, but out of her element.
She pulled another pistol from under the seat, double-checked it like Daniel had done.
He blinked. "How many guns do you keep in here?"
"Enough," she muttered. "You think I'd bring just lipstick to a Fisk party? There's a micro SMG under the seat. If it were up to me, there'd be rockets in the trunk."
He gave a low grunt of approval and swept the trunk with a quick psychic scan—no weapons now, but old signs of armor and heavier gear.
"Manhattan princess with an arsenal," he muttered. "You sure you weren't raised for war?"
Felicia flashed a grin. "I'm a Hardy."
He nodded, then leaned back and shut his eyes, mentally plotting their escape.
"We move in three minutes," he said.
Felicia instinctively reached for a door handle; it wouldn't budge. They were sealed in, safe from bullets, but trapped in a metal tomb all the same.
Felicia glanced over at him. He hadn't panicked, hadn't even raised his breathing. For her, that calm was everything.
She knew, deep down, she wouldn't make it on her own.
All she could do was trust Daniel.
Time crawled. Water climbed higher, soaking up across her legs. The windshield began to moan and creak from the water pressure.
"It's time," Daniel said.
He reached for Felicia and pulled her close. "Hold on."
She didn't question, only moved to his side, letting him brace her as the air thickened and their ears popped.
Then—BANG.
He fired, shattering a window across from them, cracks twisting out like icy spiderwebs. Before the cracks spread, he pulled Felicia away, spun them against the other side, and fired again—once, then twice, right at the corner.
Both bullets landed, one after the other, weakening the glass until the third struck. With a deep groan, the window gave way, bursting out into the river.
Water rushed in, smashing through the cabin with shocking force, sweeping both of them out in a maelstrom of freezing cold.
The sinking car tumbled to the riverbed, but Daniel and Felicia were already clear—blasted out by the surge, spinning in the water.
Daniel caught Felicia before she drifted, holding her steady as he steered them deeper—moving them not straight up, but angling away from where the bullets still cut the water above.
He moved like a predator, fast and deliberate, muscles dragging both of them along the current. Felicia kept up as best she could until her strength faded, and Daniel locked her arms over his shoulders, pulling her close.
Above, the river shimmered—light and rings of rifle fire. He could see the surface, but felt a warning jolt in his gut.
A split second later, bullets knifed through the water—right where they would have surfaced. The gunmen were waiting, aiming to finish anyone who escaped.
Felicia's limbs went limp. She was running out of air, her body floating weightless, eyes fluttering.
Daniel pulled her tighter, then gave a thin, grim smile.
He wouldn't let her die here.
He slipped an ornate oak wand from his sleeve and drew power into the water: golden rune symbols swirled between his hands, luminous and wild.
With a surge of magic, a vortex opened overhead, spinning the water into a glowing whirlpool. Bullets that hit the surface twisted and were hurled skyward, ricocheting back at their shooters with deadly force.
On the docks above, blood sprayed all over—their own bullets returning to them.
Below, Daniel relaxed his hold on Felicia, and began swimming upward—this time straight for the light.
The gunfire was gone.
The water cleared.
And Daniel, with Felicia clinging to him, broke for the surface, finally safe.
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