CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR #2
Behind Mikhail, thick streaks of white light catch his attention through the glass. Instincts flaring to life, Lachlan pushes Mikhail aside.
Outside, people are moving closer and the sweeping flashlight beams are unmistakably tactical, attached to weapons.
Sorrenko follows his gaze. ‘Bozhe moy.’
‘It’s the Front,’ Lachlan says, kicking his mind viciously into Focus Mode. Jules. He has to get Jules. ‘The Moroz Front, they—’
‘It is not the Front,’ Sorrenko says with such certainty that Lachlan is briefly confused by it, until he’s not.
Lachlan’s mouth falls open. ‘You.’
‘Upstairs, quickly.’
‘You command the Moroz Front?’ Sorrenko pulls Lachlan towards the staircase leading to the main bedrooms. ‘Answer me, you fucking—’
Mikhail snaps, ‘Of course I do. Move faster.’
They take the stairs two at a time.
Lachlan sees more coming from all sides, surrounding the mansion with lights. When they’re at the top, Lachlan aims his gun at Sorrenko, who shows no fear, calmly says, ‘It will come to this, yes.’
‘Give me a reason why I shouldn’t kill you.’
‘The fact that you need a reason is evidence enough. You know I am on your side. These are not my people attacking. We must get the children out.’
‘You ordered the attacks on the Estate?’
‘Tanner—’
‘Fucking answer me!’
‘Yes.’
‘Both times?’
‘All times, but not now. Not this.’
‘I should kill you where you stand,’ Lachlan mutters, tight with anger. ‘Jules had to shoot people, he almost died! You tried to take Mimi! Your own sons were—’
‘The children were not at risk. My people would never harm—’
‘Why? To leverage them? To fucking ransom them?’
‘To end the cycle! Alistair is too far gone. He cannot have more children.’
‘What the fuck has that got to do with anything?’
‘I wanted to take them and keep them away from him, but I would never have harmed them. I even tried to take Julian officially by asking, but it was a mistake. Alistair was already suspicious. He did not believe that I wanted Julian for carnal reasons, no matter the part I played.’
‘The part you played? I’ve seen the way you look at him!’
‘You have absolutely no idea what you’re dealing with,’ he tells Lachlan and it’s so reasonable, so seemingly honest that it briefly floors him.
‘Cold water creatures live longer than those in happy warmth. You are a good man, Tanner. I know you will protect my boys. It’s why I have given you Vasily and Danya. ’
It hits like a knife to the heart. ‘Danya?’
‘We have to move. Where is your satellite phone?’
‘Danya’s your son?’
‘I know you’ll keep my children safe and that, for once, is enough for me.’ Sorrenko looks towards the lights creeping closer below. ‘These are not my people. We must get the boys to safety.’
Lachlan focuses on what matters.
Jules. Roman. Savannah.
‘Roman’s in Savannah’s room.’
‘I know.’
They split up.
Lachlan steals inside Jules’ bedroom and freezes instantly.
There’s a shadow moving outside the balcony, someone is standing there and the fucking satellite phone is right by the door.
He moves quick and quiet, scoops Jules up bridal style and carries him out into the hallway. Sorrenko has Roman, who is heavier than Jules.
Lachlan makes a face. ‘Switch. I’m stronger.’
Sorrenko seems surprised. ‘Thank you.’
They lay Jules and Roman out, swapping holds and then, carrying Roman over his shoulder, Lachlan goes down first, gun in hand. They need to get inside the bunker before anyone sees.
‘The phone?’
‘Couldn’t get it.’
Lachlan hears the telltale scratch-squeal of razor blades on glass making silent entry. Ahead of them, three figures slip soundlessly into the mansion. Lachlan is running dangerously low on ammunition. The intruders won’t be.
He signals to Sorrenko who nods.
They set down their cargo.
Sorrenko stays to guard them.
Lachlan moves through cover of shadow, can’t waste bullets.
He has Jules’ knife.
The first one is easy.
Grab, hand over mouth, neck smile, then gently down.
The second one struggles, makes a muffled noise. Lachlan yanks the blade clean through his neck, almost decapitates him.
The third, much to Lachlan’s surprise, starts blindly shooting.
It’s unexpected because he’s accustomed to dealing with professionals the last few years. These are not professionals.
Blind fire sprays in a wild arc, hitting glass and shattering it. The others are alerted. They start coming in hot, not fleeing.
No alarms ring out in warning.
The power is still out.
Lachlan spends a bullet on the third, blows his brains out and takes all three weapons, no time for extra ammunition. He runs back to Sorrenko, hands him a gun and picks Roman up again.
They make a break for the bunker.
Sorrenko has decent aim and lays down steady cover fire while Lachlan cuts down everyone between them and the bunker.
They’re deep into the mansion when a projectile slams into the facade behind them, detonating spectacularly.
Lachlan doesn’t see it happen, only hears the orchestral catastrophe of shattering glass and collapsing steel.
He hears more glass breaking from up ahead to the right.
They’re coming in from all sides, likely have the place surrounded.
From over Lachlan’s shoulder, Roman groans.
‘Mikhail, try to wake Jules,’ Lachlan says, banking left to avoid incoming gunfire. They pause for a moment in the L of a nook and Lachlan slips Roman off his shoulder, shaking him. ‘Wake up. Wake up, Ro, come on.’
Groggy and confused, the boy comes to with a deep frown. ‘Lock?’
‘You were drugged and we’re under attack.’
That helps bring him around. ‘Blyad.’
Jules is still very much under.
‘Can you walk?’ Lachlan asks Roman while helping him up.
‘Y-yes. Where’s Ana? Where is Papa?’ he asks in his mother tongue.
‘I’m here, Roman,’ Sorrenko says. ‘Tanner take Julian. I will go first.’
Roman and Mikhail slip into rapid-fire Russian that Lachlan can’t keep up with as he takes hold of Jules. He’s lighter than Roman but even so, he has to go over the shoulder, so that Lachlan has one arm free to aim with.
He gives the spare gun to Roman who takes it with a nod.
They carve a path to the bunker.
People are inside the mansion now, above and behind. Lachlan estimates they have less than thirty seconds before they’re surrounded.
The bunker door is slightly ajar still.
Sorrenko opens it, bids them hurry.
The spiral staircase makes it hard to rush down, but Lachlan does his best, careful not to lose his footing. At the base, Alistair and the others are waiting.
‘Are we under attack?’ Madeline asks, eyes wide.
‘It’s the Front,’ Thomas utters, ‘isn’t it?’
Lachlan says nothing, headed determinedly for the safe rooms.
He hears Kessler yelling something from above, silenced quickly by gunfire. Sorrenko urges Roman into the safe room where Lachlan hands Jules over to him. The boy is slowly waking.
‘Where’s Ana?’ Roman asks, adjusting his grip of Jules.
‘I’m going to get her. Roman, look at me,’ Lachlan says. ‘Put Jules down inside somewhere out of sight and then go fill—look at me and listen! Fill the bathroom sink with water, plug it up. Bathtub too if there is one. Plastic boxes, anything you can fill, fill it with water, do you understand me?’
‘I… I don’t…’ Roman shakes himself. ‘OK, yes, I will do it.’
‘Good. And keep the gun on you.’
Lachlan casts around. Sorrenko is at the top of the spiral, keeping the intruders at bay but he’ll run out of bullets soon.
‘Mikhail, lock the door!’ Vale yells so loud it’s almost a scream.
‘It won’t lock, they shot it,’ Lachlan lies. ‘Get inside the safe room right now!’ He then raises his gun at the Delacroix twins when they move towards the panic room Jules is in. ‘Not this one.’
‘Alistair, tell him to move! We need our own space, we—’
Lachlan hits Prescott Delacroix right in the mouth with the butt of the semi-automatic, breaks a tooth. Madeline screams. Whitlock and Vale are already inside the panic room on the other side, the empty one.
Alistair stares at Lachlan with glittering calm, unreadable. ‘Go in the other,’ he tells the twins after a beat. ‘Now.’
The medical staff try to get inside the other safe room, but there’s a struggle because Whitlock forces them out, telling them there isn’t enough room.
The twins glare at Lachlan with pure loathing but they do as Alistair said.
‘Tanner,’ Sorrenko barks from above. ‘Get inside with the boys!’
Lachlan ignores him, looks to Alistair. ‘Where’s Savannah?’
Alistair gestures to the pale blue room. ‘Resting.’
‘Let me get her,’ Lachlan says instead of the dozen other things he wants badly to ask, chief among them, what did you do to her?
‘Of course.’
Without bodies in the way, Lachlan sees two beds in the third room of the bunker. Savannah is on one, her gaze moving between Lachlan and Alistair with fretful fear. Groggy though she is, she’s more awake than before.
Ariadne is on the other bed, fully unconscious.
‘Wake her,’ Lachlan says to Alistair.
‘We can’t.’
‘Wake her or leave her.’
‘Her bed has wheels.’
Lachlan’s resolve hardens.
‘Fine.’ He doesn’t care about Ariadne. ‘Ana, we’re under attack, sweetheart. I’m going to put you with Jules and Roman. You’ll be safe with them.’
‘She needs to keep the IV on,’ Alistair tells Lachlan. ‘I’ll bring Ariadne.’
The bed Ariadne lies upon is portable, reinforced frame, sealed casters, onboard power integrated beneath the chassis. Lines feed from its spine into her arms, throat and chest while compact monitors built into the rail quietly track pressure, oxygen and neural activity.
Lachlan’s never seen a bed like it.
Savannah stays quiet when Lachlan lifts her into his arms.
The backs of his eyes sting as if he’s staring at direct sunlight first thing in the morning. That weird taste thickens in his mouth. The wrong feeling thrashes like something wriggling to get out.
Lachlan moves inside the panic room, brings the attached IV stand with him. Roman’s eyes widen when he sees her. ‘Ana.’
Penhalyx wheels the body of Savannah’s unconscious mother in, pushing the bed into the far corner of the room.