The foot soldiers would come over in groups of two or three –
And I’d knock ‘em down.
Pop pop pop pop!
I must’ve killed half a dozen that way.
Ciro and Romeo met me and Luciano on the second-floor landing.
“All good?” I whispered.
“All good,” Ciro confirmed.
I pulled out my phone and texted Tiratore.
Do it.
That was the cue to shut downallthe breakers on the property.
Two seconds later, the outside lights – the ones I’d seen shining through the windows – went dark.
Voices shouted in confusion outside.
Fifteen seconds later, there was a frantic knock at the front door.
“Tell them to hold on,” I whispered to Luciano.
“Hold on!” he shouted at the door.
“When the door opens, tell them it’s you and make them come in,” I continued.
A few seconds later, Tiratore ran into the foyer with his rifle still slung across his back. He got behind the door and opened it up so he was standing behind it.
The four guards who’d been inside the main gates were all standing on the front porch, pistols drawn.
“It’s Luciano!” my hostage cried out. “Come in, we have a problem with the power!”
The foot soldiers holstered their guns and stumbled into the pitch-black foyer.
“Why hasn’t the backup generator kicked in?” one asked.
Before Luciano could say anything, Tiratore shut the door.
Through my goggles, I saw him aim with his silenced pistol –
Pop!
Pop!
Pop!
Pop!
The gun flared bright white in my green night vision.
The foot soldiers knew something bad was happening, but they were all shot in the head before they knew what to do.
Once they were down, I called out to Tiratore, “Take out the guy in the guardhouse.”
