“You hurt?” I scanned his body.
“Veer,” he raged, his body a tightening ball ready to combust before he lifted onto all fours, his eyes skimming the room to settle on his gun he’d left on the coffee table.
“I’m going to kill him.” I moved to get up, my hand reaching for my own weapon.
“Remo!” Lorenzo yanked me by the arm, pulling me back down to the floor with a force that brooked no argument. “Stay the fuck, down,” he snarled. “I’m not fucking losing you to idiocy.” His blue eyes burned hellfire.
“I can’t fucking sit here like a pussy,” I growled.
“We’re not going to,” he snapped. “Just don’t go out there half-coked–”
Another discharge of bullets emphasized his point, chewing up the floor mere inches from where we crouched. Whiskey bottles and crystal decanters on the bar exploded, raining shards down on us, the distinct pop of automatic gun fire riddling the air. Screams and shouts of alarm erupted from outside, warning me our men were taking the brunt of this invasion.
We looked at each other. Judging by his tight expression, his mind, like mine, was working furiously, planning the best retaliation.
“We need guns.” Lorenzo tipped his chin at the angel statue sitting inside an alcove near the door and protecting the entrance to the firepower we needed. Every room in this house was kitted with varying sized armories, ready for action.
“Fuck,” I cursed, my tendons going apeshit. At least thirty feet of open space sat between us and the weapons and all within those fuckers’ line of sight. “We could make a run for it,” I suggested.
More bullets pierced the walls, leaving fractured paintings, furniture and ornaments in its wake, the sound deafening, feeding my rage to get out there and kill those motherfuckers.
Lorenzo shook his head. “Stay low.”
We crawled trench-style across the polished floor, glass skittering under out bodies, followed by the steady thunder of bullets destroying everything in its path. Our efforts were slow, fucking painful and nerve wrecking. Any minute one of those bullets could lodge itself into me and Lorenzo. Thankfully, that didn’t happen. We flinched, cursed and stayed on track.
Once we cleared the distance and inched around the curved entrance, we climbed to our feet. Pressed against the thick wall protecting us, I hit the angel’s wing and the makeshift wall above it, slid open, revealing a row of assault rifles. Grabbing two, I loaded them, slung one across my back and held the other while Lorenzo did the same.
My phone rang, startling us. Quickly, I slipped it out of my pocket and answered, “what the fucks going on, Dario?” I switched to speaker.
“Where’s our security?” Lorenzo asked before Dario could answer my question.
“Dead!” he sounded breathless. “I’m in the north wing. I’m a marksman of note on a good day, boss but the way these men are taking us down, they’re not mafia. Judging by the eight or so trajectories I counted, and the sporadic bursts of gunfire strategically forcing our men to change direction, I’d say–”
“A professional hit,” I finished for him, my hand squeezing the barrel of the rifle I held.
“They’re destroying our cover options,” Lorenzo said, his voice cold, calculating. “Probably some black ops team Ajay must’ve hired.” As if in confirmation, the gunfire ceased and several red laser dots danced across the wall. “Looks like they want to make sure we leave here in body bags,” he gritted.
“Let’s go show them who’s fucking boss, bro,” I hissed.
“Want me to call in reinforcements?” Dario asked.
“No,” Lorenzo seethed. “I’m not having more of our men dying without knowing these fuckers end game.”
“Kill the lights and shut down the generator, Dario,” I instructed, aware he had access to the controlling app on his phone. “Get to the roof and fire up the chopper, we’ll meet you there.” I cut the call as my brother looked at me, frowning. “Less visibility for them gives us an advantage.” He nodded and another second later, the entire estate plunged into darkness. “Let’s go.” Moonlight filtering through the windows, cast long shadows, giving us enough light to make a move. Our footsteps cautious to deter attention, we maneuvered our way across broken bits and pieces until we reached one of the balconies. Its height gave us an advantage over the fuckers outside.
I glanced at Lorenzo, catching his subtle nod. We’d fought plenty battles and words were not needed for our plan of attack. With a gun in each hand, I jumped in front of the large windows, opened fire in a quick short burst and stepped back, allowing Lorenzo to do the same. Our move strategic, we repeated theaction then made a beeline for the protective shield of the passageway. A thunder of return fire lit up behind us.
The chaotic noise intensified, concentrated on our last position while we sprinted for the east wing. At the end of the long passage, a glass stairwell had me mounting the stairs, two at a time with Lorenzo on my tail. We just made the third-floor landing when a surge of bullets blasted the glass around us.
“Fuck!” I heard Lorenzo curse as we both hit ground.
I lifted my head to look over my shoulder, spotting the spread of blood on the shoulder of his white shirt. “You’re hit?” I called out, trying to be heard over the roar of shattering glass and splintering wood.
“It’s nothing, he yelled, crawling up beside me. “Flesh wound,” he reassured, catching my concerned gaze on his shoulder.
“How the fuck did they track us so quickly?” I grumbled, dropping my head as more glass exploded around us.
“Military grade equipment probably picking up heat signatures.”
