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When Angel saw where he was headed, he shook his head.
“Underneath the island,” he said.
It took Viking a sec to get what he meant. Then he searched underneath the kitchen island until he found a Glock.
His hands stumbled onto something else. It was a semi, placed underneath the kitchen island.
Vicky’s eyes went wide when he pulled out the AK-47. “That’s a…”
Yeah, it was. He wasn’t surprised to discover the twins had one. Damon was a natural born killer. He was stone cold when he executed someone. He was also a Doomsday Prepper, and had the lead on their arms shipments and testing out new samples. Viking just hadn’t expected to find a part of that shipment near a fruit basket filled with bananas.
Rumors of the twins’ pet gorilla popped into his mind. What if they really had one in the basement or lurking somewhere in the woods?
Then I fucking hope Kong takes out some of the scum outside.
Suddenly the gunfire stopped. An eerie silence descended on the house.
“Viking? I know you’re in there.”
Angel scoffed. “Whoever it is, clearly he wants to die. You know, like death by cop, but in this case, death by a Bloody One.”
“I thought that was a joke.” There had been rumors about a few sick fucks who had actually gone that way. It had happened to Damon twice, but they’d considered it a coincidence. What idiot would try to take down Damon in a gunfight? The man was like the Punisher on steroids.
“So far, the joke’s on them.” Angel looked peeved. “I don’t know why they chose him instead of me. I can put a bullet through their brain just as easily.”
There was no question about it. Thing was, Damon looked more like a ruthless motherfucker. People had no idea that, in some ways, Angel was an even more stone-cold of a killer.
Viking took cover behind a couch and shouted, “This is Viking. And who the fuck are you?”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Damon move. He was like a damn panther, disappearing into the shadows. His back flat against the wall, he held another AK-47 in his hand.
“I’m Vito. We just want the girl!”
He looked at Vicky. Her eyes were huge and her knuckles white, but she was holding it together.
“Vito who? Is that name supposed to mean something to me?” Everyone these days thought they were some bigshot gangster. Truth was, if you made a name for yourself, you never needed an introduction.
“Vito Gavese. I work for Pedro Morelli.” The bastard sounded scorned because he’d had to explain himself. “Send Vicky out and we’ll let you live.”
Yeah, like that was gonna happen.
He gestured to Vicky. “Listen to me. See that latch on the wall right next to the aquarium? It leads to a panic room. I need you to pull it and get in there. Whatever happens, you do not leave there. Once inside, get Katya on the line and tell her where you are.”
She hesitated. “I can shoot.”
When had she learned to shoot? Dammit. He didn’t have time to get into that.
“Get your ass in the panic room. Now.” The longer she talked, the longer he had to rein in Angel and Demon. They looked ready to explode. It was going to be a massacre, and he was ready for it. Vito had made a big mistake looking for him on the twins’ territory.
The second Vicky disappeared into the only safe haven in the house, he grabbed his semi and took position across from Angel.
Damon held a fob in his hand, his face an unreadable mask.
When Damon pressed the button, two things happened. A hidden spot in the wall across the rec room opened, displaying a large selection of guns, ammunition, and even a few hand grenades. Then, a metallic click sounded, almost as if they were being sealed into a vault. Thick metal bars came down over the windows.
“It takes three minutes to close down around the house,” Damon explained.
Viking knew what that meant. Whoever the fuck was out there was gonna engage in a full-out assault on the front door and living room windows. They had to hold down the fort until reinforcements came.
