Chapter 4 - The Breach
The sound of heavy automatic gunfire shattered the glass windows of the grand conservatory down the hall.
High-caliber armor-piercing rounds chewed through timber frames, plaster, and crystal chandeliers. The deep, terrifying booms of flashbang grenades detonated in the courtyard, shaking the entire three-story mansion to its foundation.
Avery didn't flinch. The survival instincts that had lain dormant inside her since her father's death surged back to life like a ignited fuse.
"Frank!" Dominic barked, stepping behind his desk and slapping a concealed emergency button. A heavy, three-inch-thick steel blast door began descending slowly over the study's bulletproof windows. "Deploy the second-tier security detail to the courtyard! Get the automated defense grid online!"
"The grid is jammed, boss!" Frank yelled over the deafening roar of gunfire echoing from the foyer. "Vanessa’s transceiver didn't just leak shipping manifests! It uploaded a root virus that disabled our automated security turrets fifteen minutes ago!"
"Then we do it manually," Dominic said calmly.
He opened a hidden armory cabinet behind his bookshelf, revealing a staggering array of modern tactical weaponry—silenced automatic rifles, combat shotguns, high-capacity sidearms, and Kevlar body armor.
Dominic pulled out a lightweight tactical vest and tossed it to Avery. "Put this on."
Avery caught the vest, sliding it over her head and tightening the side straps with practiced efficiency. She reached into the armory, grabbed a customized Glock 19, checked the chamber, seated the magazine with a sharp clack, and flipped off the safety.
Dominic stopped arming himself, staring at her in stunned surprise.
"I told you," Avery said, meeting his gaze with unyielding steel. "My father was Special Operations. He didn't just teach me how to kick."
Dominic let out a low, dark laugh. "Your father would be extremely proud."
He grabbed a tactical suppressed rifle for himself, slid two extra magazines into his vest, and turned to Frank. "Where is Volkov?"
"His breach team is taking the foyer," Frank said, leaning against the door frame, firing three controlled shots down the long hallway. "They brought twelve men, boss. All heavily armed Russian mercenaries. They aren't here to negotiate. They're here to execute everyone in this house and retrieve the hard drives from your safe."
"Where is Vanessa?" Avery asked suddenly.
"Locked in the wine cellar in the basement," Frank replied.
"If Volkov reaches the basement, he’ll kill her to eliminate the paper trail connecting his syndicate to her father," Avery said. "And she’s the only witness who can legally testify against the Russian rail network."
Dominic looked at Avery, a flash of deep admiration crossing his features. "She humiliated you for seven weeks, and you want to save her life?"
"I don't care about Vanessa," Avery spat, racking the slide of her weapon. "I care about putting her father and Volkov in federal prison for the rest of their natural lives."
"The basement service stairs are at the end of the east wing," Dominic said, slamming a fresh magazine into his rifle. "Frank, cover the main hall. Avery, you're with me."
They stepped out of the study into a hellstorm of fire and smoke.
The grand ballroom was unrecognizable. The magnificent crystal chandelier had crashed onto the marble floor, showering the room in glass shards. Smoke filled the high ceilings as green laser sights cut through the dark corridor.
Four Russian mercenaries clad in black tactical gear advanced through the dining hall, their submachine guns raised, sweeping the area with military precision.
"Two at eleven o'clock, two at one o'clock," Avery whispered, crouched behind a heavy oak sideboard beside Dominic.
"Take the left," Dominic ordered softly. "On my mark."
"Mark," Avery said.
She popped up from behind the oak sideboard before Dominic even finished the word.
Pfft. Pfft.
Two silenced 9mm rounds struck the first mercenary squarely in the center of his tactical helmet, dropping him instantly onto the ruined floor.
Beside her, Dominic’s rifle roared twice, eliminating the second and third mercenaries before they could trigger their weapons.
The fourth mercenary spun toward Avery, raising his submachine gun.
Avery didn't shoot. She lunged forward beneath his line of fire, executed a sweeping low kick that snapped the mercenary's lead leg at the knee, spun on her heel, and delivered a devastating side kick that drove the heel of her boot directly into his throat.
The mercenary hit the floor, gasping for air, completely neutralized.
Avery picked up his dropped submachine gun, checked the ammo counter, and looked over at Dominic.
May you like
Dominic stood over the fallen men, his eyes burning with an intense, intoxicating heat as he looked at her. "Remind me never to get on your bad side, Miss Carter."
"Focus, Moretti," Avery said with a faint, dangerous smirk. "We have a wine cellar to visit."
