A second later, both vehicles accelerate simultaneously and we race towards the black gate that closes off Stanislav’s compound.
The man at the post starts shooting useless rounds that bounce off of the reinforced windshield.
“Brace!” I command my men.
The combined force of both jeeps crash into the black gate. It thunders apart.
And we’re in.
A handful of Budimir’s men wait out on the lawn, guns in hand. They scatter as we plow forward, attempting to take cover.
My men roll down their windows and start firing.
We mow them down ruthlessly.
But I can see more troops amassing in the distance, near the garage where all my father’s prized vehicles were once housed.
We screech to a halt in the main front courtyard.
The moment we’re at the steps that lead up to the massive mansion, I signal to my men to get down.
I’m the first one out of the jeep.
I scale the steps three at a time until I’m the front door. Just before I reach them, the doors fly open and I’m faced with four armed soldiers.
Four against one—truly unfair odds.
For them.
I feint to the side and shoot twice. I hit both my targets and they drop to the floor instantly with new holes in their foreheads.
I stab the third in the throat and shove him into the fourth, then fire another pair of rounds into each of them.
The whole thing takes less than ten seconds.
I lead the charge into the mansion. My men fill in behind me, their weapons drawn and their faces alert.
“Fan out,” I signal to them.
I know that more men will soon be coming from every direction of the mansion, but I’m calm. Calmer than I’ve been since this day started.
Adrik roars and points up. More men on the balcony overhead.
“Take cover,” I yell, just as they open fire.
The soldier in front of me takes the brunt of the opening salvo and goes limp against me. I drag him to the side and jump for cover behind a large pillar. Two more of my men go down, and I catch a glimpse of Kian take deadly aim at one of the shooters.
He’s got talent. I realize in seeing him fight that he moves like Cillian.
“Hold your fire!” someone roars.
Frowning, I reload and glance out from the pillar.
The voice that’s silenced the shooting appears on the staircase.
He has a gun in hand, but both hands are raised up in surrender.
It’s Anton Yahontov.