Chapter 15 - The Ambush
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The red emergency lights strobed violently, painting the bunker in flashes of panic. Dante spun away from Emily, his tactical instincts instantly overriding the intimate standoff. He grabbed a heavy assault rifle from a secured cabinet on the wall, racking the slide with a terrifying, mechanical clack.
“They breached the perimeter,” Dante roared over the blaring siren, tossing Emily a smaller, loaded 9mm pistol.
Emily caught the weapon clumsily, the heavy, cold steel feeling completely alien in her hands. “I don't know how to use this!”
“Aim for the center of their chest and keep pulling the trigger until the gun stops clicking,” Dante ordered grimly, moving toward the heavy steel blast doors.
Before he could reach the exit, the intercom crackled to life.
“Boss! It’s an inside job!” Marco’s frantic voice screamed through the static. “The main gates were opened from the control room. Konstantinos’s men are flooding the courtyard. We are heavily outnumbered!”
Dante’s face twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated murder. “Hold the main hall, Marco. We are coming up.”
“Stay behind me,” Dante commanded Emily, throwing the heavy bunker doors open.
They ascended the narrow, concrete stairwell into the main mansion. The beautiful, serene villa had been transformed into a warzone. The deafening roar of automatic gunfire echoed off the marble floors, accompanied by the shattering of expensive glass and the screams of dying men.
Dante didn't hesitate. He burst into the grand foyer, unleashing a devastating barrage of suppressing fire that dropped two Konstantinos assassins instantly.
Emily scrambled behind a massive, overturned marble dining table, her hands shaking so violently she could barely hold the pistol. The air was thick with gray smoke and the sharp, metallic stench of blood.
Suddenly, a Greek assassin flanked their position, emerging from the hallway directly behind Dante. The man raised his weapon, aiming perfectly at the back of Dante’s head.
Dante was reloading. He didn't see him.
Emily didn't think. The adrenaline overrode her terror. She raised the heavy 9mm pistol with both hands, squeezed her eyes shut, and pulled the trigger repeatedly.
The recoil bruised her palms, and the deafening cracks rang in her ears.
When she opened her eyes, the assassin was crumpled on the floor, groaning in a pool of blood. She had shot a man. She had saved Dante’s life.
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Dante whipped around, seeing the fallen man, then looking at Emily, whose hands were still raised and shaking. A fierce, terrifying pride flashed in his eyes.
But the victory was cut brutally short.
