Chapter 25
Jake
The wind howled around our SUV as we approached Alexei’s estate, visibility decreasing with each passing minute. I kept my eyes on the GPS, watching Nora’s tracker signal remain stationary within the compound. At least she wasn’t being moved again. Yet.
“We’re approaching the south entrance,” our driver announced, slowing as we turned onto an unmarked road nearly hidden by snow drifts. “I can’t take you any closer without risking detection.”
I nodded, checking my weapon one last time. “This is good. We’ll proceed on foot from here.”
Ella sat rigidly beside me, her face pale but determined. I’d seen that look before—when Scout was poisoned, when she’d faced down Mikhail at the cabin. It was the look of a mother who would walk through fire for her child.
“Remember,” I said as we prepared to exit the vehicle, “always stay between Mikhail and me. Ifanything goes sideways, you get to Nora and get out. Don’t wait for us. Connor, Mia, and Rory will be there in the tunnels. If no one appears within five minutes of getting Nora, they will come in.”
She nodded, pulling on the black watch cap Declan had given her. “I won’t leave without her.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I said, catching her arm. “You get her and go. No matter what happens to Mikhail or me. Promise me, Ella.”
Her eyes met mine, fierce and unwavering. “I promise.”
Mikhail checked his earpiece, then pointed through the swirling snow. “The service tunnel entrance is approximately two hundred yards that way, hidden behind a maintenance shed. It’s rarely used, but my father would have it guarded.”
We slipped out of the SUV into the biting cold, the snow immediately soaking through my pants as we crouched low. The wind muffled our movements as we made our way through the trees bordering the property, staying well back from the security fence that surrounded the estate.
“Team One in position,” Declan’s voice crackled through our earpieces. “Ready on your mark.”
“Copy,” Mikhail responded quietly. “Two minutes.”
We reached the maintenance shed—little more than a small outbuilding nearly buried in snowdrifts—and circled to find the tunnel entrance. Just as Mikhail had predicted, a single guard stood watch, stamping his feet against the cold and looking thoroughly miserable.
Mikhail gave me a nod, then circled wide to approach from behind. I watched as he moved with surprising stealth for a man his size, appearing behind the guard like a ghost. One quick movement, and the guard slumped silently into the snow.
“Clear,” Mikhail called softly.
I guided Ella forward, keeping my body between her and any potential threat. Mikhail was already working on the access panel beside a heavy metal door partially hidden by snow.
“Declan, we’re at the entrance,” I said into my mic.
“Copy that. Diversion in three, two, one—”
A series of explosions rocked the far side of the compound, bright flashes visible even through the thickening snowfall. Alarms immediately began blaring across the estate.
Mikhail got the door open, revealing a dark tunnel barely tall enough to stand in. “Quickly,” he urged, ushering us inside.
The service tunnel was damp and cold, smelling of mold and disuse. Our flashlights cut weak paths through the darkness as we moved forward in single file, Mikhail leading, Ella between us.
“The tunnel splits ahead,” Mikhail whispered over his shoulder. “Left leads to the kitchen, right to the wine cellar. The kitchen will be busy with staff responding to the alarm. Cellar is our best bet.”
I checked the tracker on my phone. “Nora’s signal is coming from the second floor, west wing.”
“My father’s private quarters,” Mikhail confirmed. “He’d keep her close.”
We reached the junction and took the right passage, moving as quickly as we dared in the near darkness. After what seemed like an eternity, we came to another door. Mikhail paused, listening intently before attempting to open it.
“It’s locked from the other side,” he whispered.
I moved forward, examining the hinges in the beam of my flashlight. “Stand back,” I instructed, removing a small tool kit from my pocket.
It took less than a minute to remove the pins from the hinges, allowing us to pull the door toward us instead of pushing it outward. The wine cellar beyond was dimly lit and mercifully empty, rows of bottles gleaming in the low light.
