The Presidential Suite Of The Regency Hotel
For two seconds, I think we’ve won.
The Irish came. Ronan and Sinead sent their men to fight on my behalf. They honored their son’s sacrifice.
It’s over. It’s over. We’ve won.
But Budimir is one second faster than me.
And that’s what makes all the difference.
In one motion, he grabs a gun from his bodyguard’s holster and pumps two rounds into the huge man’s back. Blood erupts and the falling corpse forces the Irishmen to scatter.
Budimir uses the distraction to burst through the doors right behind me.
For the first time in my life, I’m frozen in fear.
He’s getting away.
The bastard is getting away.
The fight resumes around me, loud and chaotic and deadly. The Irish are firing at Kovar and Bufalino and their men, who are returning fire even as they drop one by one.
It ends quickly—the Irish far outnumber the rat-faced fucks that Budimir just abandoned.
The last gunshot sounds distinctly ominous, even as it ends the life of that smug bastard, Kovar.
But I don’t wait for the satisfaction of seeing the lights fade out from his eyes.
I have to chase down my uncle.
I get to my feet, blood staining my clothes, my hands, and probably my face, too. I can feel the dry crust of battle settle over me like a second skin.
I look around for my men. Maxim is sprawled out next to me, skin pale and cold. The loss weighs heavily on me.
But I have no time to mourn.
I turn and sprint towards the back entrance of the room that Budimir just escaped through.
“Boss!” Adrik’s voice is hoarse from exertion. “Where are you going?”
I don’t bother replying. I just grab a loose gun from the floor and run faster.
I hear them shouting my name—Adrik, Vasyl and Alexei—but I ignore them all and keep going. Adrenaline is pumping, giving me second wind.
If I let the slippery motherfucker go, I’m not sure I’ll get another opportunity.
Little drops of blood mark the path Budimir took. I follow them into the fire escape and start jumping down the stairs, leaping over three, four steps at a time.
I see a fast-moving figure down below and when I lean over the railing, I see Budimir’s shadow nearing the ground floor.
He looks up and catches sight of me, his eyes going dark with loathing.
I duck back as he starts shooting up towards me, but the angle doesn’t allow for accurate aim.
The bullets cease, just in time for me to hear the fire escape slam shut and I know they’re out of the building.
I continue down, rushing as fast as I can until I reach the ground floor myself. A few passing tourists gasp as I burst out into the open.