Fortunately, the Hallstatt clan killers inside the manor heard the commotion right away.
When they turned and saw the blood pooling on the floor — and their mayor lying unconscious — they immediately understood what had happened.
Within minutes, they had summoned a doctor.
After frantic emergency treatment and two tense hours, the elderly mayor finally regained consciousness.
Surrounded by his subordinates, he struggled to sit up, face pale as chalk.
His first instinct — was vengeance.
He reached for his phone, voice hoarse but filled with fury.
"Lena," he rasped. "Double the bounty on that bastard Daniel! I want every contract killer in Prague to hunt down that traitor!"
Lena hesitated on the other end.
"What about Alex Cross?" she asked softly.
Her question made the mayor freeze.
On one hand — Daniel, the betrayer who had driven him to rage and collapse.
On the other — Alex Cross, the assassin leader who had cost them dozens of men and was almost within reach.
"Damn it!"
He slammed his fist against the table, trembling with anger.
After a few seconds of heavy breathing, reason won over emotion.
"Cancel Daniel's bounty," he growled. "Transfer the funds to Alex Cross instead. Once Cross is captured — Daniel will be easy to deal with afterward."
It was a cold, calculated choice.
Lena immediately complied.
Moments later, she contacted the High Table's bounty network — and Alex Cross's name lit up on every assassin's screen worldwide.
---
> [Bounty Type: Open Contract]
[Target: Alex Cross]
[Affiliation: The Lighthouse Organization]
[Reward: $13,000,000 USD]
[Time Limit: 24 Hours]
[Last Seen: Abandoned Distillery Building — South Bank of the Vltava River (Live Updated)]
---
Continental Hotel, Prague
Manager's Office.
Anna Parriott sat on a leather sofa opposite The White Widow, sipping coffee.
Between them lay a small table — and beside the White Widow's chair sat a sleek, black metal suitcase.
Anna's eyes drifted toward it more than once, curiosity flickering in her gaze.
Finally, when the moment felt right, the White Widow gave a sly smile and clapped her hands.
A man in a suit approached, setting the suitcase on the table.
Click.
The lock released.
Inside — gleaming weapons.
Kimber Super Carry 1911 pistol.
Heckler & Koch MP5K SMG.
TTI TR-1 Ultralight carbine.
Benelli M4 Super 90 shotgun.
A grenade, flashbang, concussion charge — and neatly arranged ammunition.
Anna immediately understood.
This wasn't a courtesy call — it was a business meeting.
The White Widow was here to sell arms.
The first major deal had already been struck — with the Russian Syndicate.
Now, maintaining regular trade and price advantage meant access to even bigger contracts.
But the Widow's ambitions were far larger than being just one of the Twelve Seats of the High Table.
And in Prague, the Continental's manager — Anna — was the perfect ally.
"Miss Parriott," the White Widow said smoothly, lifting her cup.
"I know the Continental has its own arms channels. But the world is full of suppliers. Perhaps we can offer the same quality — or better — for a lower price."
She took a delicate sip of coffee, her smile radiant yet calculating.
Behind that charm, every word dripped with business intent — and hidden danger.
---
Meanwhile, at the abandoned distillery, gunfire thundered.
BANG! BANG-BANG!
John Wick was already deep in combat, cornering the last of the Hallstatt assassins.
Three shots — three kills.
He seized another attacker's gun, slammed him into the wall, then stabbed his blade straight into the man's ribs.
The assassin screamed and dropped his weapon.
John didn't flinch — he raised his pistol and fired twice.
BANG! — chest.
BANG! — head.
A clean finish.
Without pause, he spun, reloaded, and fired three more times.
Each shot — precise, lethal, emotionless.
By the time he stopped, seven men lay dead at his feet.
He exhaled slowly, then turned toward the far end of the fourth floor.
There — the sounds of another firefight.
He knew immediately.
Alex Cross was here.
---
RAT-TAT-TAT!
BANG! BANG!
Gunfire from both sides echoed through the crumbling halls.
Cross advanced at the front — calm, focused, deadly.
The Sisterhood assassins flanked him, occasionally leaving a few stragglers alive for Eve to finish.
Maybe it was the sight of the killers who had murdered her father.
Maybe it was the adrenaline.
But there was no fear left in Eve's eyes — only fire.
Each time an enemy raised their weapon toward Cross or his team, Eve's trigger finger responded first.
One by one, they fell.
And with every pull of the trigger, her shots grew steadier, sharper — colder.
By the time she reloaded her magazine, she had learned more about survival than any training simulation could ever teach.
---
Then — a familiar voice echoed through the smoke.
"Alex! Over here!"
It was John Wick.
Eve froze for a second, her heart pounding.
When she turned and saw him — the legendary Baba Yaga himself — she could barely believe her eyes.
Her lips parted slightly.
For a brief moment, even amid the chaos, awe replaced fear.
She was standing in the middle of a war — between legends.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If you're interested, you can read advanced chapters:
pat reon .com / Samorash