We race toward the house, the soldiers taking the lead to clear the path so that we can make it to the house without anything slowing us down. Guards race toward us and bullets whiz past my face. Months ago, those bullets would have scared the shit out of me, but tonight, they’re just pissing me off.
Pulling my gun, I fire back, trying not to shoot the boys or any of our men in the process. More guards join and Marcus curses, pulling his own gun. “You guys go on, I’ll hold them off.”
We don’t even get a chance to respond before he lets off two perfect kill shots, his impeccable skill like no other. We take off at a sprint, and I feel sick leaving him behind, but the middle of the war zone is where Marcus thrives, and with the other soldiers at his back, I know he’s going to be alright.
A few guards meet us as we storm up the grand stairs leading to the front door, and Roman lets off quick shots, not bothering with the dramatic slaughtering as we’re now in a time crunch. Every moment the guards are aware of our presence is another moment that allows them to slip away … allows Giovanni to slip away, and that is simply not acceptable.
Getting past the armed guards, Levi shoots out the lock for the floor-to-ceiling front door, and as he gives it a hard shove, we find guards already waiting for us. They attack immediately, not allowing us the chance to get the upper hand, but unfortunately for them, they underestimated the power that Levi and Roman wield.
This foyer isn’t as grand as the ones I’ve been fighting in over the past few months and doesn’t allow much breathing space, and despite the raging need to join in and end these guys, I’m only going to be in the way. So instead, I slip out behind the boys and bolt for the stairs.
I get halfway up the staircase when I hear the familiar sound of flesh being beaten and my head whips to the left, peering over the railing to find that some of the Moretti soldiers have already made it through the maze of guards. One of them glances up, more than aware of his surroundings, and upon finding me, his gaze sweeps over my body to check that I’m unharmed. In that moment, a sliver of camaraderie passes between us, so much so that not a moment later, my knife flies through the air and plunges deep into the stomach of the guard who moves at his back.
His eyes widen and he quickly sends a nod of thanks, but I don’t linger on it, having more than enough already on my plate. I soar up the stairs, getting right near the top when Roman’s voice booms through the foyer. “SHAYNE, ON YOUR SIX.”
I whip around and immediately duck as a set of strong hands reach for me. My eyes widen and the guard tumbles, slightly off balance from missing his mark, and I shift out of the way, gaining just enough space to kick my booted foot out and slam it into his chest. The guard falls back and tumbles down the impressive staircase, coming to a stop at the bottom where Roman is waiting and ready for him. He doesn’t last another fucking second.
With Roman and Levi clearing out the foyer and the extra soldiers to our left, Roman leaves Levi to finish off the remaining guards and sprints up the stairs after me. “Mick,” I say, hoping to God that he hears me. “We’re on the stairs. Where do we go?”
“To the west wing,” he says, his voice sharp and loud in my ear.
My head whips left to right as Roman quickly gains on me. “West?” I question in a panic. “I was raised with left or right. WHICH WAY, MICK?”
“Left,” he rushes out. “Take the hallway to the end. We’re still getting four heat signatures from the room. Two children, one baby, and an adult. The hallway is clear as are adjoining rooms.”
I take off at a sprint as Roman comes up after me, his gaze sharp as he scans the space in front of us, searching for threats despite Mick’s assurances. “Anything on my father?” Roman questions. “Anyone found him yet?”
“Negative,” Mick responds. “We’ve got nothing. All heat signatures have been confirmed as guards. I’m sorry, man. He slipped us again. He must have known we were coming. There are still bound to be family members who remain loyal, but we knew that was a possibility.”
“FUCK,” Roman spits, stopping toward the end of the hallway, his frustration getting the best of him. “FIND HIM,” Roman demands. “You have the best fucking technology at your fingertips. Track the bastard with whatever means necessary. I want him dead.”
“Yes, sir,” Mick responds, his voice fading to a distant murmur as he relays their orders to Lennox and the rest of the tech team.
My hand presses to his shoulder, drawing his attention back to the here and now. “We’ll focus on your father later, for now, we need to get those kids, and you need to meet your son.”
As if those words spark a fire deep inside of him. His head snaps up and he looks toward the door at the end of the long hallway, and without hesitation, he moves toward it, his gun in hand. I stand by his side and get the awful sense of déjà vu. I’ve been here twice before, certain that I was about to push open a door and put an end to this, only to have my hopes crushed. “You ready?” I ask him, my gun in hand.
He nods. “Just like last time,” he tells me. “I go for the threat, you go for the baby.”
He sees the conviction in my eyes and I can practically hear the countdown inside his head.
Three.
Two.
One.
Roman storms in first, his gun held high, ready to take out whatever threat lies in our way as I dart below his arm into the room.
A woman stands before us, her arms up and tears streaming down her face. The baby cries in the corner as Phillip’s two daughters crouch down in the farthest corner, holding on to one another and silently weeping, absolutely terrified.
I immediately recognize the woman who’d helped me flee Giovanni’s clutches, who told me to run and never look back. She knew I’d come for the baby at some point, but finding her like this, her life flashing before her eyes as the bomb strapped to her chest slowly counts down.
Four minutes and thirty-six seconds.
Thirty-five.
Thirty-four.