I park the car a hundred yards out and approach on foot, moving through the trees with my gun drawn. The sounds of the firefight grow louder—sharp cracks of gunfire, shouted commands in Russian, the occasional scream when a bullet finds its target. I can smell gunpowder and pine sap, feel the adrenaline singing through my veins.
I reach the eastern perimeter where three of my men are pinned down behind a stone wall, returning fire at attackers positioned in the tree line. One of my men has blood streaming down his face from a head wound. He's still firing but he's moving slower than he should be.
"What's going on?" I bark as I drop into cover beside them.
The closest man jerks his head toward me, eyes widening when he sees me. "Pakhan. We've got at least four on this side, maybe more. They're well-armed. We've taken down two but they keep coming."
"The house?"
"Secure so far. Viktor's inside with the girl. But if they breach?—"
"They won't." I lean around the wall and fire three shots in rapid succession. One of the attackers drops, clutching his shoulder. The others scatter, seeking better cover. I pull out my phone and call Viktor. He answers on the first ring. "I'm here," I tell him. "Eastern perimeter. What's your situation?"
"Holding." His voice is steady despite the gunfire I can hear in the background. "They tried the front entrance twice. We pushed them back both times. But they're testing the windows now. If they get through?—"
"Get her ready to move. We're getting out of here"
"Understood."
I end the call and turn to the man next to me. "I need you to draw their fire. Make them think we're preparing acounterassault from this position. Give me two minutes, then fall back to the vehicles."
He nods, understanding immediately. "Where will you be?"
"Ending this."
I move before he can respond, slipping back into the trees and circling around toward the attackers' position. They're focused on the stone wall, on the men returning fire from behind it. They're not watching their flank. It makes me think these aren't Volkov's best men. These are expendable, meant to test our defenses and see how we respond. Which means there will be more coming.
All the more reason to get Liesl out of here now.
I come up behind the first attacker from the side, moving silently through the underbrush. He's crouched behind a thick pine tree, rifle raised, completely focused on the stone wall. I put two bullets in his head before he even knows I'm there. The suppressor on my gun keeps the shots quiet enough that his companions don't immediately notice.
The second man is ten feet away, partially hidden behind a fallen log. He turns when the first man drops, sees me, and starts to raise his weapon. I'm faster. Three shots to center mass. He goes down hard, his rifle clattering against the log.
Now the others know I'm here.
Gunfire erupts from my left, bullets tearing through the trees around me. I drop and roll, coming up behind a boulder as bark explodes from the trunk where my head was a second ago. Two more attackers, both with automatic weapons, firing in controlled bursts. I wait for a pause in their fire, then lean out and return it. My shots are precise. I don't waste bullets. The first man takes one in the throat and goes down gurgling. The second manages to duck back behind cover, but I've marked his position.
I move to one side, using the trees for cover and circling around to get a better angle. He fires blindly in my direction, spraying bullets that come nowhere close as he starts to panic. He knows he's alone now, knows his team is dead or dying, and he's losing his nerve. I come around a thick oak and find him trying to retreat, backing away while still firing. His magazine runs dry. He fumbles for a reload, hands shaking.
I shoot him twice in the chest. He drops the rifle and falls backward, hitting the ground with a heavy thud.
The eastern perimeter is clear.
I move quickly back toward the house, checking the other positions as I go. The western perimeter is still a problem—I can hear sustained gunfire from that direction—but the front entrance has gone quiet. Either Viktor's men pushed them back or they're regrouping for another attempt.
I reach the house through the back entrance, stepping over the body of an attacker who made it this far before one of my men stopped him. The door is riddled with bullet holes but still intact. I push through into the kitchen, where two of my men are positioned at the windows, weapons trained on the tree line. "Where's Viktor?" I bark.
One of them jerks his head toward the stairs. "Upstairs with the girl."
I take the stairs two at a time, my heart pounding harder than it did during the firefight. The hallway is dark except for a sliver of light coming from under one of the doors. I head toward it,and the door opens before I reach it. Viktor steps out, gun in hand, then lowers it when he sees me. "Pakhan."
"Is she hurt?"
"No. Scared, but unharmed." He glances back into the room. "I told her we're leaving. She's getting her things."
"We don't have time for things. We leave now."
"Understood." He steps aside to let me pass.
