AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Viking grabbed two more guns from the ‘war cabinet’, pocketed a few hand grenades, and took position before the front door. As this was the smallest point of entry, it was easier to defend by himself.
Not soon after he had that thought, the first attack was launched. Everything from that point on turned into scenes from a slaughterhouse movie. Except, as always, the reality was much bloodier.
Judging by the erupting gunfire, the twins were doing target practice at the window.
A deafening sound filled the air as Vito increased his assault. At one point, Viking heard the huge water tank break and Damon curse.
“You fucking shot at my snake!”
That was not good. The brother was sensitive about slippery old Al Capone.
Damon grabbed something off the floor and threw it in the assailant’s face. Judging by the hiss and scream that followed, Viking didn’t have to wonder if it had hit his mark. Or what that it was.
Dammit. As thrilled as he was from that scaled help, now he had another predator to look out for. Dark as it was inside, whatever lighting that wasn’t shot to pieces, Damon had dimmed. It was impossible to see a snake slithering around.
He scowled at Damon. “Is it poisonous?”
“Does a gorilla like bananas?” Damon spit back.
Shit, fucking shit. He wasn’t even getting into the rumors of them owning a gorilla and feeding it people. Though, it was tempting to test the rumor on this Vito guy, by handing him over to King Kong.
Someone broke through the front door. Just as Viking put a bullet through his head, another one burst through. Shooting out his kneecaps, Viking felt satisfied when the fucker went down, stumbling over his predecessor.
He eyed the steel bars above the front door, going down slowly. Almost there. Almost. Vito must have thought the same because more men came up the front walkway. Viking ducked when a bullet went over his head and buried into the wall behind him.
He rolled over the floor and took cover behind a body. He looked beyond the porch, where he could see anyone sneaking closer. Shielding himself with the dead prick, he pulled out two grenades and threw them outside.
A loud bang shook the front of the house. Drops of blood and body parts sprayed over his feet. Then, finally, the click of the steel bars hitting the floor, sealing off the front door.
He grabbed his semi from the floor and hauled ass to the living room. Damon was at the same spot where he’d left him—plastered against the wall near the mantle. Blood poured from a brow. Angel, on the other hand, looked ready to walk into a board meeting, as always.
“How the fuck does your suit not even have a wrinkle?” Viking snapped as a bullet thudded into the steel table he was hiding behind.
“It’s called custom-made quality,” Angel answered haughtily, then took aim at someone who jumped inside. The asshole managed to get a shot in, missing Viking by a thread, before he dropped dead.
Then the sound of the set of bars protecting the window sounded. Finally, all doors and windows were sealed from the outside. No one could get in.
Damon walked into the pantry and came back, carrying more ammunition.
“Stock up. We don’t know what firepower they’re carrying. They could blow up a wall.” He looked grim, but at the same time, completely in his element.
He didn’t need to tell Viking twice. Those bars would only hold for so long. There wasn’t a house on the planet that couldn’t be breached if you had the right equipment. He doubted Pedro’s henchmen carried any explosives with them, but it was good to be prepared for anything.
Damon stocked up on guns, enough to put Rambo to shame, then took a stand behind the kitchen island. Angel and Viking followed him, as it was the center of the house.
Vito and his men went wild on the front door for a whole ten minutes until they finally figured out they weren’t going to breach it, or perhaps until they were out of ammo.
Then a new crescendo of gunfire started. Much louder this time. Bigger, badder. It sounded as if an all-out war had erupted in the twins’ backyard.
Viking grinned.
Kristoff had arrived.
The hounds of hell had been set loose.
***
The twins’ yard had turned into a graveyard of fresh bodies. Judging by the black vans and soldiers carrying body bags, Kristoff had arrived with a clean-up crew. Viking stood on the blood-soaked grass contemplating their next move.
