Which meant I had a job to do:
Seriously fucking dissuade them.
I was pretty sure that nobody in the choppers was looking this way, so I tore through the vines and darted for the nearest tree.
This part of the property was mostly a huge field, but there were lots of ornamental clusters of Italian cypresses, the tall, skinny trees iconic to this region.
Northern California had redwoods and sequoias, Los Angeles and Florida had palm trees, Japan had cherry blossoms –
And Tuscany had Italian cypresses.
The problem was that they were a bitch to climb.
I knew that because Lars had decided to incorporate scaling them into the foot soldiers’ training.
You had to fight your way up through a ton of tiny branches that were incredibly dense, but didn’t offer much in the way of handholds.
That’s why I had the nylon gun straps: I was going to clip them together in a loop and use it the way loggers used tree-climbing saddles to shimmy up trees. Most cypress tree trunks were less than three feet in diameter, so it was totally doable.
Icould’vejust set up shop at the base of one of the trees –
But I needed as much height as I could so I could fireintothe helicopters.
And if I were down on the ground, I’d be more visible. Better to be camouflaged way up in the branches. Nobody would be looking for me there.
I hoped.
I picked a sturdy tree amidst a group of five, looped the gun straps around the trunk, and fastened them around my waist.
Then I began to climb.
The Heckler & Koch was on its own strap, slung over my shoulder, so I had both hands free – which was good. Pulling myself up was like swimming through tree branches.
When I got about 30 feet off the ground, I planted my feet, leaned back, and let the nylon straps keep me in place.
Then I pulled the sniper rifle off my shoulder and poked it through the tree branches.
Most of the helicopters were substantially higher up than I was –
Butonewasn’t. It hovered on the same level as the mansion’s roof, about 40 feet above the ground.
Why was it so close?
Because Lucca, Tullio, and Santino were doing their fucking jobs, God bless them.
The three foot soldiers were up on the rooftop deck of the mansion, hiding behind the stone railings and firing at the helicopters. I could hear the chatter of gunfire and see the muzzle bursts from their assault rifles.
They were distracting the helicopters. All eyes were on the roof –
And nobody was watchingme.
I sighted through the scope on my rifle.
I could’ve easily popped any of the mercenaries in the open bay door –
But that would have only killedoneman.
I wanted to take downallof them –
