Chapter 32
Iget the call with no prior warning.
The Red Hitters have gathered at the station, and are already moving to their meeting location. We’re sure to find the research there, but we’ll have to catch them quickly. We can’t give them the opportunity to settle in and lock their doors.
We will hit them when they arrive, and not a moment later. Catching them off-guard, when they’re still transitioning from one comfortable state to another, is going to give us our best chance of wiping them all out at once.
The tracking car is following them from a distance, but they’re oblivious to it. I made sure we chose something that’s so inconspicuous that even if they saw they were being followed, they’d assume it was only a coincidence. Ride-share drivers use them often around here because they get excellent miles to the gallon, but they wouldn’t last a second in a chase or a gunfight.
That’s why they wouldn’t expect it. The car is just too plain, and they’re used to flashing their power and money like it makes them better than everyone else.
Today, they’re getting a wake-up call. They aren’t in fact, better than everyone else. How can you be better when you’re dead?
I grab an armor-piercing rifle from my closet, slinging it over my shoulder as I charge to the door. I’ve warned Lily this moment would come, and that she couldn’t join, but she still follows me down the stairs.
“Please be safe,” she begs, grabbing at my shirt as I rush toward the front door.
I spin on my heels, planting a kiss on her lips. “Lily, I would die for you, but that’s not going to happen today. I think you and the triplets need me alive.”
Tears are already building in her beautiful eyes, but she blinks them away. “Just be careful. Don’t do anything too risky. You have a lot of men with you, and they can do all the dangerous stuff.”
“Many of them have families too,” I remind her. “But I’m not going to put myself at any greater risk than I need to. You require a partner and a father for our children, and my men deserve to keep their leader. I’ll be back.”
She nods, but I see the fear on her face as I step outside. She clings to the doorframe, watching every step I take to my car like she’ll never see me again.
It pains me in a different sort of way than usual to leave her like this. I never thought I would find myself so reluctant to take care of business, but she makes me want to give it all up just to spend the rest of my days with her.
But with everything weighing on my shoulders, that’s not possible. I must serve the Bratva. That’s my calling, my destiny, and I won’t back down from it.
I slide into the front seat of my armored SUV, shutting the door and taking one last look in the rearview mirror. Lily is still standing in the doorway, her hand over her heart and her eyes locked onto the car.
I sigh, wishing this could be different. If she wasn’t pregnant, I would even consider bringing her with me, but she’s infinitely safer at the house. Nobody can touch her there.
As I pass through the front gate, I nod at the guards. There are fifty of them outside now, patrolling the property with rifles clutched tightly like they’re anticipating war. I spared no expense to keep my precious Lily and our triplets safe.
And once we retrieve the research for Project G, I will be able to elevate us to a place where we become untouchable. Nobody in the world is going to be able to break through the power and influence of a billionaire, especially not some crummy little police force.
My engine runs hot as I speed down the highway, weaving through traffic to get to the location sent out to everyone. We have artillery vehicles on the way, hidden in shipping trucks parked in various places around the city, but they won’t be the first ones to arrive.
The first wave is a group of elite soldiers, trained from day one to deal with the Red Hitters. When they ambush them, they’ll be coming from all directions, making it almost impossible for our opposition to take cover or even shoot back.
This technique should wipe out most of them in the bloodiest massacre this side of the city has ever seen, but that won’t be the end of it. We’ll have to go in and pick off the stragglers, the ones who manage to find cover, before they’re able to call for help.
At that point, the artillery should arrive, but in an ideal scenario, we won’t need them. They’re a safety precaution if things get ugly. It would be better not to have black market military vehicles make such an obvious appearance in a place that is probably not far removed from the general population.
My GPS pinpoints it to just outside the city, meaning that we will still be in earshot of the general population. All it takes is one report of a rogue military vehicle mowing down police officers to cause a stir that will likely end in extensive news coverage and a military crackdown on the city.
I already have two tickets booked to Russia if that happens, but I pray things won’t come to that. We need to get our hands back on the research that Dimitri was doing for us and finish it. These next few days are vital to our success.
As I pull off the highway, I see another Bratva vehicle pull off with me, speeding down the same road that leads to the Red Hitters. I probably won’t be the first person to arrive, but it’s safer that way. Most of the chaotic action is going to go down within the first few seconds, and then things should be much more strategic.
We’ll be picking off the remainder of the guys one by one. There may be a few in the building, acting as security, but we’ll deal with them once we’re inside. Even surrender won’t prevent them from meeting an untimely end.
That’s the nature of this business. It’s kill or be killed out here, and I’d rather be the one going the killing than eating a bullet and leaving this life prematurely. I have kids to raise, a woman to make love to, and an empire to build.
Death can wait a little longer.
My hands are covered in sweat, slipping on the steering wheel when I hear the gunshots in the distance. The fight has already begun, and by the sound of it, it’s going to be over quickly.
The rattle of full-automatic rifles grows louder as I drive toward the location on my GPS. The sweat from my hands disappears, and the bundle of nerves in my belly dissolves into confidence. I thrive in these conditions. It’s what I live for.
Well, more like what I used to live for. Now, I live for Lily and the triplets.
The Red Hitter’s meeting location is a simple brick building that appears to have been recently built. I’m sure that’s’ where some of their new funding went, but they failed to make considerations for sufficient security measures.
There’s no gate out front, no guards or visible cameras. The only thing preventing me from driving straight int the parking lot is the crowd of Bratva vehicles parked just outside it on the road.
I pull up behind them, parking and jumping out of my car. The air smells like gunpowder and blood, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I hear a gurgling scream of someone being shot to death.
This is it, the moment I’ve been waiting for.
I weave past a few more cars, coming into a clearing where several of my men are hunched behind a vehicle, spraying bullets toward another car owned by the Red Hitters. Every few seconds, one of the cops jumps up and attempts to get a shot off, but they duck down just as quickly as bullets shower their car.
“How many are left?” I shout over the noise.
One of my men, Jeffery, looks over to me as he reloads his rifle. “I saw three by the car and a few more managed to run into the building. I’d say about a half-dozen, but if they called for backup there could be more coming.
“How many dead?” I ask, looking over at the bodies scattered along the parking lot.
“Twenty, maybe thirty,” he replies. “There were more here than we thought, but we caught them by surprise.”
The Red Hitters must have been recruiting with their new funding, but there’s only so many bodies they can gather and train in a few weeks. If they have backup, it’s going to be thin and outgunned by our forces. We might even be able to get out of here with the research before they arrive.
But I didn’t come prepared for an easy fight. I came prepared to destroy the Red Hitters by any means necessary, and even if it takes a few lives from our side to do it, I’m prepared to make that sacrifice.
Everyone here is.
“There’s one making a run for it,” Jeffery announces.
I raise my rifle before anyone else, shooting the desperate dasher in the back of the head. He collapses onto the pavement instantly, cut off from this world with a flash and a loud bang.
“Nice shot,” Jeffery mutters.
I’ve been practicing nonstop, but I’m not one to brag. I just wanted the opportunity to take one of these assholes out, and I got it. There’s no missing when you’re that enraged by someone’s very existence. You’ll make sure you hit them right on target.
“Two left behind the car. Maybe one. I think we should move in,” Jeffery says.
Before anyone can act, someone chucks a grenade across the parking lot toward the police vehicle where the lone remaining member is hiding, and we all duck. The explosion is small, but it’s enough to send glass and shrapnel flying across the pavement.
Then, there’s silence. The only thing that breaks it is the ringing in my ears. It’s become a chronic thing after so many years of gunfights and training, but today it feels like someone is blowing a whistle inside my head.
I stick a pinky into my ear, popping it in and out a few times until the ringing stops, and then I look out across the parking lot.
Not a soul has survived. There’s no movement, save for the slow ooze of crimson blood across the freshly paved ground and the occasional rustle of the adolescent trees in the breeze.
“Move in,” I command loudly, and everyone picks up their arms and rushes the building.
Not a single shot is fired on the way there, and it’s eerily calm. I almost want someone to pop out from behind one of the cars, or to hear a siren off in the distance, but there’s nothing but boots on the ground as we head toward the entrance.
The front door is made of wood, like they never anticipated anyone ever trying to break it down. That kind of confidence is exactly why they will fail today, and the Bratva will go on for centuries. We don’t make mistakes like that.
I hear a gunshot when the battering ram hits the flimsy wooden door, but it’s not from any of my men. The shot came from inside the building.
I almost want to laugh. Do these morons really think they’re going to be able to shoot their way out of this? With only a few of them left, they’re better off trying to run like the guy I shot in the parking lot.
Not that it’s going to save them, but it makes more sense than continuing to fight when you’re boxed in. I doubt any of the Red Hitters actually want to die for their cause.
And that’s another big difference. Even with everything I have, I am willing to die for this. It’s in my oath and everyone here knows it. We succeed or we die. There’s no other way.
The door breaks after only a few hits, wood splintering and the frame cracking as men rush in. I’m in the middle of the bunch, eager to shoot someone but finding the place mostly empty and void of people to kill.
The sole person who was inside is lying in the middle of the floor in a pool of his own blood in an apparent suicide. He wasn’t shooting at us before. He was ending his own life.
Smart man. He ended his life on his own terms, without the unnecessary suffering involved with being shot by multiple people until you bleed out. Quick and easy.
I step over the body as my guys sweep the rest of the building, but there’s nobody here. We’ve already won.
“Take a look at this,” Jeffery says from the opposite end of the room.
I look over at him to see the files his holding up. The research for Project G, unsecured and out in the open like it means nothing at all to the Red Hitters. If they had any sense at all, they would’ve turned it over to the FBI already, but they probably didn’t know what it meant. They’re not the brightest people, after all.
“Check every drawer, cabinet, and closet in this place,” I command. “We don’t want to miss anything.”