Alexei nods. “There are other signatures in the building as well—a handful of women. Not easy to tell which is Thea.”
“Rules of engagement?” one of Alexei’s men asks.
Alexei looks at me. “This would be your call, Gabriel. It’s your show. The rest of us are merely players.”
I scratch my face, thinking it over. “Anyone armed dies. Anyone unarmed gets secured. Kolya stays alive until after I’ve found Thea.”
“And after?” Alexei asks.
“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”
I check my weapon—HK MP5, my submachine gun of choice. I haven’t led an assault in years, but my woman and unborn child are on the line. There’s no version of this where I sit in a van and wait for good news.
“Alright,” Alexei says with a nod. “We ready?”
“Ready.”
“Power goes out on my signal,” he says into his coms. “Thirty seconds from the end of this call, I want the building dark.”
I key my radio. “All teams, thirty seconds.”
I pull on my night-vision monocular. The world turns green and sharply defined.
I close my eyes and picture Thea. I remember when she told me she was pregnant, when I was filled with a happiness I’d never known before. I fold the moment up and lock it away somewhere safe and deep.
Alexei nods. “Let’s do this.”
Through the windshield of the van, I watch as the club goes dark.
The two guards posted outside never saw us. The first dropped with a single silenced round from one of Alexei’s men. The second turned toward the sound and caught two rounds in the chest before his hand ever made it to his holster. He staggered back against the wall and hit it with a thud, sliding down slowly into a lifeless heap.
I step over him and we enter through the side door, quick and quiet.
The corridor is pitch black, but I can make it out through night vision. I spot concrete walls and exposed pipes, a strip of lights along the upper corner. I move with the four men, taking point, with Alexei close behind.
We push through, spotting a room up ahead. Storage. We sweep and move on.
I hear chaos—heavy boots, shouting in Russian, the crashing of furniture. A trio of gunshots sounds out, erratic and uneven. Mygut clenches at the thought of those gunshots being directed at Thea.
More gunshots. They’re panicking, shooting at shadows.
We reach a corner and form up. Alexei’s hand lands on my shoulder.
“Second team is in position,” he whispers. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
He gives the order.
We continue down the hallway, passing what appears to be a dressing room. I spot movement and raise my weapon. A scream cuts through the air, and I scan five or six young women. They duck down behind chairs and dress racks.
“Thea?”
No one responds. I place my hand on the comms and speak.
“At least six women,” I say to Anthony, my man on the perimeter. “Second door on the right. Move in to secure.”
“Copy.”
