Blood and Bandages

The gunfight at the north docks lasted forty-five agonizing minutes. Francesca stood by the tall glass windows of the dining room, watching flashes of orange muzzle fire light up the dark shoreline through the rain. The distant staccato of automatic gunfire and the boom of breaching charges echoed across the bluffs, shaking the heavy glass panes. Two heavily armed guards remained stationed inside the dining room, their rifles raised, their…