“Sir, there’s word from Devon,” the pilot calls back. “He’s got three men on the roof near the helipad and a sharpshooter on the roof across the street. They’re not seeing any activity.”
“Excellent. Tell him to have Talon and Vincent ready to cover my wife.”
“At least tell me who’s after us this time,” Afton says, “does this mean you didn’t get all the bad guys on your five-day disappearance?”
“It seems so. We wiped out the Kelly Mob in Belfast. Nasty group of bastards, piling up overdoses with their shit street drugs. My cousin Michael tells me that we apparently missed a splinter group. Sloppy intel.”
“They’re specifically targeting us?”
“There’s been four coordinated attacks, most of the family is on lockdown and those attempts were crushed. But my security reported two drones heading out toward theBeau Soleil.The drones exploded when they shot them down.”
“So, they were planning to blow us up on the boat.” Sucking in a deep breath, she nods. “Thank you for telling me.”
“You’d rather know, even the ugly details?” This is interesting.
“Yes,” my wife says firmly. “I hate being kept in the dark. Being kept helpless.”
The high rises in the business section of the city loom in front of us and I squeeze Afton’s hand. “When we land, darling, I want you to sprint for the elevator. I'll be covering you, as well as Talon. But the sooner we get off the roof, the better.”
The moment the helicopter lands, Talon rips open Afton’s door and helps her out. I slide through, jumping out after and we all run for the elevator.
“Boss, shooters on the tower to your west-” Our sharpshooter’s warning comes just as a bullet thuds into the steel elevator door. The doors close and we’re on our way down.
“If you have an opening, take them out. If you don’t, get off the roof and go back to the estate.” I tap my earpiece, hoping he got the message. There’s a hollow sound of thunder above us, bullets hitting the elevator doors, but we’re out and onto the executive level parking where there’s a car waiting. Afton is still handling this admirably.
It’s then that the bullets start flying, shattering concrete, sending chips flying like shrapnel. The sound of gunfire in the enclosed space is ear-searingly thunderous.
I pull Afton behind a concrete beam and pull out my Glock. “How many?” I’m shouting at Talon, who’s taking cover behind the closest car.
“Ten that I can see.” He fires and I hear the unmistakable thud of a body hitting the ground.
Nine, then.
I have Talon, Vincent, and Devon, more than a fair fight.
Gunsmoke creates a haze and the concrete echoes endlessly from the gunfire. One of the stupid bastards charges me, shooting with his arm straight out and leaving me a nice opening to put a bullet through his heart. I shoot again, watching the man spin around and land face-first on the bloody concrete. Pulling back as a bullet streaks past my face, I fire again and again with the others until the garage is silent.
There’s only a scatter of high-end cars on this floor, and their owners are in for a shock when they leave work tonight. Shattered windshields, pools of blood and a hell of a dent in the hood of a Porsche from the gigantic bastard who fell onto it, blank eyes staring up at the roof.
“Sound off!” I shout, and each of my men steps out from his cover.
“Good.”
“Fine, Sir.”
“No worries.” That’s from Vincent, clutching his bloody shoulder.
“You’re not driving,” Devon says. “Gimme the keys.”
“Feck no!” Vincent looks more outraged at the idea of not driving than the bullet in his shoulder.
“Not the time to argue,” I break in. “It’s time to leave. Vincent, get your gore-covered ass in the car. Afton, you’ll be in the back with me.”
Afton screams, short and strangled like someone slammed their hand over her mouth.
I spin around to find a bloody, haggard Kelly soldier holding my wife with his arm across her chest and a knife at her throat. “I’ll cut your bitch’s throat! Back the fuck off. You’re giving me the keys.”
“Ran out of bullets?” I ask.
