Chapter 13 - The King Unleashed
|
The heavy steel door shuddered under the impact of a second breaching charge. Dust rained down from the ceiling.
Victor didn't wait for them to blow the door off its hinges. He grabbed a heavy ballistic shield from the corner, braced himself, and hit the electronic release button on the keypad.
The deadbolts disengaged.
Before the Russians on the other side could react, Victor kicked the heavy door open and stepped into the corridor, unleashing hell.
The roar of the tactical shotgun in the enclosed concrete hallway was deafening. Muzzle flashes illuminated the dark like strobe lights. Lena covered her ears, screaming as the sheer volume of the violence assaulted her senses.
Victor moved with a terrifying, mechanical efficiency. He wasn't just a boss who gave orders from a penthouse; he had built his empire with his own bare hands, and he remembered exactly how to use them.
He dropped three mercenaries in the corridor before they could even raise their weapons. He pushed forward, refusing to let them advance toward the safe room where Lena was hiding.
"Push up! Suppressing fire!" a thick Russian accent yelled from the top of the stairs.
A hail of bullets pinged against Victor’s ballistic shield. He held his ground, returning fire, a one-man army protecting his fortress.
Suddenly, a massive figure flanked the Russians from behind.
It was Dmitri. The head of security was bleeding from a cut across his forehead, but he was alive, leading a flanking maneuver with five loyal guards. They caught the Russian mercenaries in a deadly crossfire in the basement corridor.
Within two minutes, the firefight abruptly ended. The surviving Volkov men threw down their weapons, surrendering to the overwhelming brutality of the Romano counter-attack.
"Boss!" Dmitri called out, stepping over the bodies, breathing heavily. "The main house is secure. The local police have surrounded the perimeter. Volkov’s remaining men are fleeing into the woods."
Victor lowered his shotgun, his chest heaving. He was covered in soot, and a fresh graze on his cheek bled sluggishly, but he was victorious.
"Have the cleaners sanitize the property before the police breach the gates," Victor ordered coldly. "And get the cars ready. We are moving to the city safehouse."
Victor turned and walked back into the bunker.
May you like
Lena was still huddled on the cot, trembling violently. When she saw him standing there, bruised and bloody but alive, she let out a broken sob and threw herself into his arms.
"It's over," Victor whispered, dropping his weapons and crushing her against his chest. "I told you I wouldn't let them touch you."
