"Konstantin, wait!" Ivan yells, but I'm already sprinting.
I drop the empty rifle and draw my pistol, moving as fast as I can through the burning warehouse. I leave a trail of bodies behind me, shooting anything that moves in the thick smoke.
I burst through the double doors at the end of the plant and step into the shadows of the radio antennas. At the base of the tower sits the reinforced concrete bunker. The control room.
My lungs are burning, and my tactical vest is torn up from shrapnel, but I don't stop.
Ivan catches up to me as I reach the steel doors. He doesn't hesitate. He kicks the latch and shatters the lock. We flood into the room with our weapons raised, ready to kill everyone inside to get to my wife.
"Nobody moves!" I yell, sweeping the room with my pistol.
I stop cold. The control room is full of glowing server racks and monitors, but there aren't any Italian hackers at the console.
Sitting in the chair, his hands flying across the keyboard of my stolen tablet, is Arthur Blackwood, battered and sweating.
Standing behind him, with a gun pressed to the back of his head, is Don Moretti.
"Ah, the Russian," Moretti sneers. He doesn't lower his gun. "You found me, but you're too late, Konstantin. The firewalls are broken. Arthur's hitting the final keys to bypass your security and download the decryption keys."
"Step away from the console, Moretti," I say. "You've got nowhere to run. My men killed everyone on your perimeter. It's over."
"Is it?" Moretti smiles. It's a sick expression that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. He taps his earpiece. "Bring her in."
My heart stops.
A side door at the back of the room kicks open. Two guys drag a struggling figure into the bright light and haul her straight to the console.
It’sHelena. Her lip is bleeding, and her eyes are wide with terror.
They force her to her knees right beside her father's chair. Moretti shifts his aim and presses the barrel of his gun to her temple.
"Your men on the perimeter were very good," Moretti mocks. He watches the color drain from my face. "But they weren't expecting my men to use the underground tunnels to flank the road. I told you, Konstantin. I always take what I want."
The whole world narrows down to that gun barrel against my wife's skin. The warlord inside me gives up instantly.
The empire, the weapons, the billions of dollars. None of it matters. If she dies, I die. I slowly lower my gun and let it drop to the concrete floor with a heavy clatter. Beside me, Ivan curses in Russian, but he lowers his weapon too.
"Let her go," I say. My voice is raw and desperate. "You've got the tablet. You've got the guns. Take them. Just let her walk out of here."
"I'll take the guns," Moretti laughs. He digs the gun harder into Helena's head. "Finish the sequence, Arthur! Download the codes, or I'll put a bullet in your daughter's head."
Arthur’s hands tremble over the keyboard as the progress bar on the monitor inches to 99%. Slowly, he turns his head toward Helena. The gun pressed to his daughter’s temple strips away any remaining hope. In that instant, the truth settles in with crushing certainty.
Men like Moretti don’t leave survivors.
"Daddy, no," Helena whispers. Tears spill over her bruised cheeks.
"I'm done paying you, Moretti," Arthur says.
"Press the damn button!" Moretti roars.
"Go to hell!" Arthur screams, pulling his hands away from the keyboard.
He launches himself out of his chair and throws his whole weight at Moretti, shoving the gun away from Helena's head.
Everything happens in a blur.
Helena shrieks and stumbles backward in a panic to get away. The men lose their grip as she drops.
