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As I approach the derelict, red-bricked property, I turn down a side alley where I know my brothers and men will be waiting.
I catch Anton’s eye as I put the car in park.
He nods once.
They’re ready to go.
Reaching across to the glove compartment, I pull out four magazines of bullets and another handgun which I load up.
It’s likely I’m going to need them all.
I take a final deep breath as I exit the car and stalk toward my men. My family.
Dimitri’s face is like stone.
“Is this everyone?”
My brother nods. “This is everyone.”
I balance the gun in my hand, double checking it as I think through the best course of action.
“Surround the property. Take out whoever you have to in order to get inside.”
I look to each of my brothers, and then Anton, Feliks, and the dozen other men they’ve brought with them.
“Mikhail, Danil, you head around the back. Dimitri and I will take the front along with Feliks and Anton.”
My two youngest brothers nod, their eyes filled with determination as they ready their weapons.
It’s time to save my wife. “Don’t leave anyone alive, and leave Gilanto to me.”
“Let’s move.” Anton crouches low against the brick wall, gun at the ready.
“Ready?” Dimitri moves to stand at my side.
I flex my fingers before clicking the safety off my gun. “Ready.”
“See you on the other side, brat.” A feral grin spreads across his face as he claps a hand on my shoulder.
I take one last steadying breath, letting my eyes close for just a second as Mario Gilanto’s face fills my mind.
“Let’s go kill this son of a bitch,” I snarl before rounding the corner and killing the first man.
Like roaches, Gilanto’s men swarm from the shadows the moment the first shot is fired, their guns aimed as we surround the building.
Every time my finger pulls the trigger, and blood is spilled, my mind seems to quieten, my focus honed in on the task at hand.
I just need to get to Bianca.
Dimitri and the others can take care of the rest.
We storm the entrance, leaving a trail of bodies in our wake as we move through to the main factory floor.
It’s cold and damp, the only light coming from a few fluorescent bulbs overhead. Old rusted machinery lines the factory floor, giving Gilanto’s men plenty of places to hide.
A few of our own go down before we even know they’re there.
I dive behind a metal pillar, panting as gunfire followed by shouts of pain echoes all around.
