Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
I look at Alek and Misha before I join Luca and our men. The two groups split, and I sling my submachine gun over my shoulder while keeping my Glock in my hand. Ducking low, we all run to the wall, and one by one, we scale it.
Landing in a crouching position, I wait until Luca says, “Forward.”
The yard is mostly dark until you reach the immediate area around the house. Lights shine from the windows, and I count five men guarding the back.
This will be child’s play unless the fucker has most of his guards inside the house.
“Everyone ready?” Luca asks into the earpiece.
“Yes,” Viktor answers. “On your command.”
Everything stills in my body, and my focus is one hundred percent on the mission.
Find and kill Makarova.
I was very clear that whoever gets to the fucker first has to keep him for me. I’ll be pissed as fuck if someone else kills him.
“Breach!” Luca gives the order, and we all move forward.
With my arms raised and the barrel of my gun in line with my sight, I hurry toward the house.
The moment the guards become aware of us, gunfire breaks out.
We hear commotion from the front of the property while I take out the guard nearest to me with a shot to the head.
Luca takes out two guards who started shooting from a window on the first floor.
The consecutive popping of gunfire and shouts fill the air.
“The front is cleared,” I hear Misha say, then Viktor follows with, “We’re breaching the house.”
“Entering from the back,” I mutter. “No friendly fire, please.”
We go in via the sliding doors and work our way to the stairway.
“Blyad',” Alek chuckles. “One of the guards fell over his own feet and shot himself. Funniest shit I’ve ever seen.”
“Focus!” Viktor snaps.
Heading up the stairs, two guards open fire on us. I press my body to the banister and manage to take out one while a soldier kills the other one.
Reaching the first floor, we split into groups to search all the rooms. From the plans Viktor showed us, I know the main bedroom is at the end of the hallway. I don’t waste time and head straight for it.
I kick the door open and cautiously step inside the dark room. Taking a flare from the belt around my waist, I ignite it and throw it in the middle of the room. I couldn’t give two fucks whether it sets the house on fire and burns it to the ground.
From the light of the flare, my eyes take in everything around me, and seeing another door, I move toward it. Finding a hidden set of stairs, I grab my flashlight and hold it next to my weapon as I head down.
“Armani, check-in,” Misha’s voice sounds in my earpiece.
“Secret stairwell off the main bedroom,” I murmur. “Approaching a door.”
“I’m coming to you,” Misha replies.
Because the door is hidden, I check it for traps before I kick it open. In a split second, I take in everything.
Counterfeit machines, stacks of cash that’s ready to be shipped out, and Makarova, who’s sitting behind a desk, smoking a cigar.
He grins at me, plumes of smoke wafting around him. “I expected you sooner, Mr. De Santis.”
The hair on my neck rises, and my gut screams for me to run. Turning on my heel, I race up the stairs, and as I burst into the main bedroom, Misha comes in.
“Out! Get out!” I shout, and knowing we have no time, I shoot the window, shattering the glass, and hurl my body out of the room.
The air vibrates, and as I hit the grass, the house explodes, sending a shockwave of heat and debris over me.
My ears ring from the blast, and I shake my head as I push myself onto my hands and knees.
Jesus.
It takes a minute or so to catch my bearings before worry explodes in my chest, and I glance over the lawn. Seeing Misha a couple of yards from me, I crawl to him.
He lets out a groan. “Mother fucker.”
“Up,” I mumble as I climb to my feet. “We have to find Alek, Luca, and Viktor.”
I turn around and look at the burning house while cradling my arm against my side. It took the brunt of my fall and feels broken.
“That fucking fucker,” Misha growls as he stumbles toward me.
He has a massive gash across his chest, where glass probably cut him as he jumped out of the window.
He scowls at the flames and debris. “He knew his days were numbered, and he wanted the mafia and bratva in the same place to kill us all in one swoop.”
I shake my head, unhappy as fuck that I didn’t get to kill Makarova.
Men pour out of the burning house, some injured badly, while others seem to have survived unharmed.
“Alek,” I say into the earpiece. “Check-in.”