"Then we'll have to be better than the odds."
***
We drove north through the darkness, the city lights fading behind us, the landscape shifting from urban sprawl to suburbs to the deep black of forest and river. The GPS led usalong winding roads, past sleeping towns and darkened houses, toward something that felt less like a rescue mission and more like a descent into hell.
The estate appeared around a bend in the road—or rather, the entrance to it did. A pair of stone pillars marked the start of a private drive, the iron gates between them hanging open. Beyond, the drive disappeared into darkness, swallowed by trees.
"Cut the lights," I said. "We go in quietly."
Yegor complied, and we rolled forward in darkness, the engine barely audible. Behind us, the other vehicles followed suit—a convoy of shadows moving through the night.
The drive was longer than I'd expected. Nearly a mile of gravel and overgrown foliage before the trees opened up and the manor came into view.
It was massive—three stories of gray stone and dark windows, Victorian in style, Gothic in atmosphere. The kind of house that had probably been beautiful once, before decades of neglect had let the ivy creep up the walls and the roof begin to sag. Now it looked like something out of a nightmare. A corpse of a building, still standing through sheer stubbornness.
Lights burned in several windows. Vehicles were parked in the circular drive—a black van, two SUVs, a sedan with Serbian plates. They weren't trying to hide.
They were waiting.
"Thermal shows twelve signatures," Yegor said, studying his tablet. "Most on the ground floor, concentrated in what looks like a main hall. Three on the second floor. One isolated on the third."
Keira. She had to be the one on the third floor. Alone, separated from the others. Either being held apart for Branko's personal attention or positioned as a final bargaining chip.
"Entry points?"
"Front door is too exposed. There's a servants' entrance on the east side, probably leads to a kitchen. And there—" He pointed to the screen. "A cellar door on the north side. Could come up inside the house."
I studied the layout, running through scenarios. A frontal assault would be suicide—they'd see us coming, use Keira as a shield, pick us off before we got close. We needed to be surgical. Fast. Overwhelming.
"Alpha team takes the servants' entrance. Bravo comes through the cellar. Charlie holds the perimeter, makes sure no one escapes." I met Yegor's eyes. "I'm going in through the third floor."
"How?"
I pointed to the east side of the building, where a massive oak tree grew close to the wall. Its branches reached toward a window on the third floor—not quite touching, but close enough for someone willing to take the risk.
"That tree. I can reach the window from there."
"That's insane."
"Probably. But Keira's on the third floor, and I'm not waiting for a coordinated assault to reach her." I checked my weapon, chambered a round. "Give me five minutes to get into position. Then hit them hard. I'll get Keira out while they're dealing with you."
Yegor looked like he wanted to argue, but he knew me well enough to know it was pointless. "Five minutes. Then we come in."
"Make it loud. I want every guard in that building running toward you, not toward her."
He nodded grimly. "Loud we can do."
I stepped out of the vehicle, the cold air biting at my face. The manor loomed above me, dark and silent, its windows like empty eyes watching my approach.
Somewhere inside, Keira was waiting. Terrified. Alone. Counting on me to find her.
I'd promised I would come back to her.
It was time to keep that promise.
Chapter 24 - Keira
The hood smelled like sweat and gasoline.
