Dom hit the exit at full sprint.
The guards were already in position.
Over fifty of them spread across the yard in a wide formation — rifles raised, bodies pressed behind abandoned train cars, broken cargo containers, and rusted rail structures.
Ten RPG units lined both flanks in rows of five, each one loaded and ready.
It was obvious that Vance had foreseen this outcome ahead of everyone—including him.
"That old-timer is really smart." Dom finally understood why Dark Chain's executive valued him so highly.
He kept running straight through the line.
"All of you — open fire on whatever comes out of that door!" he shouted as he cut through them. "Don't save a single round."
A senior guard stepped forward. "Sir, your people are still—"
"They're already dead!."
He didn't slow down. His face had shed every pretense of authority — it was pure survival now.
CLANG!
