absolutely going to murder me.
I was crouched down on one knee behind the small table in the kitchen of Arturo’s new fake distribution house.
The plan was simple. Let Franco and his men infiltrate. Take them by surprise. Kill his men. Take Franco alive. Haul ass.
Simple, right?
Wrong!
There was nothing simple about it because, for some reason, the plan had been pushed forward and Nikolai wasn’t there. He wasn’t there, and I was, and he was going to fucking kill me.
Yes, okay, I knew I didn’t have to be there. But I wanted to see it through, and I knew if I told him, he’d rant and rave and demand I not go. I, of course, wouldn’t listen, and Nikolai would spend the night going out of his mind with worry because it was physically impossible to get from Vegas to New York in one hour. So, I opted not to tell him about what was going on until after the fact. He had a lot of shit to deal with already. Why add more unnecessary stress and worry on his shoulders when it was completely avoidable? Nothing was going to go wrong. I was going to be fine and leave this place without a single scratch on me. Why?
Because they’d stuck me in the back far away from any of the action. It’s not like I could say anything. It wasn’t my OP to run, so if Arturo wanted me covering the backdoor to make sure no one snuck up on them from behind, then that’s what I’d do. And I’d do the best damn job possible.
I adjusted my position slightly, keeping the barrel of my gun pointed right at the door that led out into the backyard. Arturo had done a great job in making this place look operational. He’d even gone as far as to fill it with all the equipment he would use at a proper drug distribution house, so as not to arouse suspicion when The Outfit broke in. There were even mannequins dressed in gear, spread throughout the house to really sell the ruse. Thorough bastard.
I was dressed in my best boss-bitch outfit, the material all black, tight and non-restricting, allowing for plenty of manoeuvrability. Arturo had offered me weapons but I politely declined. I much preferred to work with my own. There was a handgun and a knife strapped to each thigh, another knife at my ankle, one more behind my back, and a fully loaded, semi automatic Scorpion EVO 3 machine gun strapped over my shoulder. I was so ready to fuck a bitch up.
“Incoming. ETA two minutes.” A voice crackled in my ear from the earpiece. It was one of Arturo’s men who were monitoring the streets, keeping watch for Franco’s arrival.
Excitement surged in my veins. I checked over my weapon one more time, ensuring everything was in working order before focusing back on the door again.
“I thought your guard dog would be here,” Vincenzo commented at my side. There was a small part of me that thought Arturo had stuck him back here to protect me, but I wasn’t entirely sure.
My eyes flicked to him and back to the door. “There wasn’t enough time, otherwise he would be where you are.”
“Of that, I have no doubt. I didn’t know you guys were dating.”
“Why would you? Our business is our business.” I watched him discreetly out of the corner of my eye. There was something…different about him. Gone was the sarcastic playboy who flirted with anything that had a heartbeat. In his place was this stone cold, focused predator. It was a complete personality switch.
“Target confirmed. Heading up the driveway,” the voice crackled in my ear again.
Here we go. Here we go.
The next few minutes went by unbearably slowly. Vincenzo and I waited in silence. My palms started to sweat. I flexed my fingers around the handle of my gun and took a deep breath. The anticipation was fucking killing me.
The sound of gunfire made me tense. It was coming from the front of the house. Vincenzo and I shared a look. We both wanted to go and see what was going on, if they needed help. But we couldn’t abandon our post. It opened us up to being attacked from behind.
There was movement in the window, several dark, shadowy figures walking past and heading right for the door.
“1 o’clock,” I said, alerting Vincenzo in case he didn’t see them.
“Got it.” He looked through the scope of his gun, taking aim.
“It’s an ambush! GO!” someone roared from the front of the house.
I watched the door, the window, the door, the window, my gaze ping-ponging back and forth between the two. Something silver glinted through the window and my instincts screamed to run. I had no idea why, but my instincts had never steered me wrong before, so I was definitely going to listen to them.
Without wasting another second, I turned and tackled Vincenzo out of the room and into the adjoining one at the same time as something came hurtling through the window.
There was a flash and a loud bang that sent my ears ringing. My vision blurred, making it impossible to see.
Fuckers had used a flash bang grenade.
Disorientation washed over me. I’d been hit with one of those bastards during my training with the Bratva. It had been ten times worse than this. It had left me so scrambled, I couldn’t even form a coherent thought. Jumping into the next room must have lessened its effects, but they were still prominent enough to impair my senses. My ears were still ringing. My vision was still blurred. If I didn’t move immediately, whoever threw that flashbang would be right on top of me.
Move. Your. Ass!
I ran a finger down the strap over my shoulder until I felt my gun. With a hiss, I got to my feet and took aim. A blurry figure appeared in front of me. I fired and it disappeared out of my field of vision.
With every passing second, my sight improved. I used the wall as cover and breathed a sigh of relief when I could finally see more than just blurriness. Bullets smashed into the wall I was hiding behind. I dropped into a crouch a moment before the bullets ripped through the plaster.
One more second and my brains would have been splattered all over the floor.
I locked eyes with Vincenzo. He was crouched down, using the same wall as I was for cover, except he was on the other side of the entrance.
Using military hand signals, I told him to charge forward at the same time I did, having our paths cross in an X formation so we could cover both sides of the kitchen.
He nodded.
“Go, go, go,” I mouthed.
We sprung into action, crossing over each other as we ran back into the kitchen. I didn’t hesitate to fire, releasing a stream of bullets. My vision was still slightly impaired, but I saw them dive for cover. Three of them, maybe four. I wasn’t sure. That stupid flashbang really fucked with my senses.
I ran out of bullets quickly and unclipped the strap from around my shoulder, dropping the weapon. Two men charged at me. My daggers were in my hands before I could even think, and we fought. Hard.
Lucky for me, they were more the “Swing my arms around and hope I hit something” type than the “skilled fighter” type. I ducked and sliced. Blocked and stabbed. Twisted and kicked. A boot to the thigh made me stumble and then I was flat on my back, tackled to the ground. I kept a tight hold on my knives on the way down so I wouldn’t lose them, because if I did, I knew I was done for.
Hands wrapped around my throat, squeezing. I didn’t panic. Panic would get me nowhere. My fingers curled tighter around the hilt of my weapon and I rammed it into his eye. He screamed and I pushed him off, scrambling to my feet.
A foot came flying towards my face. I dodged left, wrapped my arm around his leg and charged forward, knocking him off balance. My blade was in his throat before he knew what happened. I smiled, twisting it left and right, dragging out the kill, trying to make his last few moments on this earth as painful as possible.
Vincenzo’s cry of pain snapped my head up. He was flat on his back, one knife in his shoulder and another one getting dangerously close to his eye, the man sitting on his chest pushing it closer and closer. Three bodies lay dead around him.
“Hey!” The man turned to look at me. I threw my knife and his head snapped back, the blade lodging deep into his forehead.
“Stop him! Don’t let Franco get away!” someone yelled. A second later, Franco bolted into the kitchen and ran towards the backdoor, trying to escape.
I jumped up, preparing to chase after him but my gaze locked on Vincenzo. He saw my hesitation. I didn’t want to leave him on his own when he was vulnerable.
“Go, go!” he insisted, grimacing as he moved to sit up.
I ran, whipping out one of my handguns. I stepped out into the cold air, my head darting left, then right. There. He just turned the corner and disappeared from sight. Cursing, I leapt over the bannister, landed in a crouch and sprinted after him. Determination made me kick into another gear, running faster. I wanted to catch him. I wanted to take him down for Illayana. For all the suffering and inconvenience that bastard had caused my best friend.
I skidded around the corner, too fast to stop my body’s momentum, and ran right into the taser in Franco’s hand. I cried out as a strong electrical current rocked through me, pain assaulting all my senses. My muscles locked and I fell forward into Franco’s arms, completely stunned. Another round of pain hit me as he tased me again. I screamed. Darkness crept into my vision, taking over my sight inch by inch until I saw nothing but black.
