83. Leo
LEO
The glass cracked and shattered with a sad fizzle, muffled by the leather jacket I’d rolled up and placed under my elbow as I drove it into the pane.
Spencer and I were crouched on a small roof adjacent to the second floor windows.
In broad daylight, there was no room for delay.
All it would take was one wandering guest to spot us up here, kevlar under our shirts and pistols holstered to our sides.
Our faces were obscured by black balaclavas which made us stand out next to Isaac’s hired security.
Using the leather, I cleaned up the edges of the frame, clearing the shards from the lip before slipping my hand inside and unlatching the windows. Once it swung open, I raised my hand flat and signaled forward.
Move.
I hopped inside first, lifting my pistol as soon as my feet hit the italian marble inside.
Leaping in behind me, Spencer did the same.
We cleared the room, keeping our pistols aimed and our eyes down the sights. Long silencers adorned the ends, not interested in drawing attention to our presence above the wedding guests meandering to their seats below.
As we approached the door to the hallway, I felt my back. A pack was strapped on, metal pieces of a disassembled sniper inside. Once we reached the balcony, I’d have a matter of seconds to construct it. Something I’d been practicing in the motel room. But I hadn’t done it under duress in years.
At the door, I signalled for Spencer to hold as I gently opened it. Peaking over the frame, I cleared the hallway before lowering my hand to my hip, gesturing it from my back forward.
Go.
Spencer nodded, tapping my shoulder as she moved past me. She kept her pistol trained on the right end of the hallway as I moved out and covered the left.
On my end, two guards stood with their backs to us, facing the staircase that led to the wedding below.
Tapping Spence, I pressed my palm flat to my pistol.
Hostile.
On an unspoken count of three, we both let off two shots to the guards down the hall. A dulled thud was the only sound coming from the barrels of our HK Mark 23 pistols as our bullets met their skulls.
As soon as we let off the shots, Spencer and I sprinted silently down the hallway. We grabbed the guards bodies before they could clatter to the ground.
Gently resting them on the marble, Spencer peeked down the staircase to make sure no one had seen us. A nod and a gestured move was enough for me to lift my pistol and head back down the hall.
Spencer’s usual goofiness had evaporated, all that was left was a Valemont Violence soldier, desperate to protect our own.
At the end of the first hallway, I stopped us on the corner. We took a second to catch our breath before I peered around the edge.
A guard stood just feet away.
From a holster on my side, I unsheathed a short tactical knife. Lifting my hand, I signaled for Spencer to hold. I took the corner slowly, within arms reach of the guard.
In one swift movement, I hooked my arm around his shoulder — locking his head — while my leg swept around his. I put the knife to this throat and sliced across his jugular with just enough pressure to cut through his artery.
I carried him to the ground, blood spluttering from his throat as he gasped for air.
Standing, Spencer and I moved down the hall.
We were moving fast now, downing security around every corner.
As we approached an open guest room door, we kept our pistols high and checked the room. Just as we did, a woman in a light blue dress wheeled around.
“Oh, my!” She gasped as she saw the guns.
Quick on her feet, Spencer lowered her weapon and nodded. “Apologies, ma’am. Security. Just doing our rounds. Please proceed downstairs, the ceremony is about to begin.”
Calmed enough by the masked guards, the woman nodded and gathered her belongings as we moved on.
Spencer shrugged at me as we moved.
It would have to do. We’d dropped nearly half the guards in the manor, whoever was left probably wouldn’t make it up here fast enough to stop what we were doing.
We neared our doorway, the room with a view of the garden and our perfect balcony.
Once we were inside, the mission would be a go. We wouldn’t have long to execute the guards on the perimeter of the property, the ones with sniper rifles just like mine who would be training their scopes on Dom and our Kiera.
If Isaac spotted them before we were in position, they just might take the shot.
At the doorway, Spencer and I nodded to each other.
One last push.
Gripping the glass knob in my hand, I twisted the door open and pressed into the room.
Standing at the center, was a tall man in a dark blue dress jacket with gold shoulder knots and sleeve ornaments.
My instinct was to stand at attention and lift my hand to a salute. But I knew this man, knew this General.
“Dad.” I stood upright, lowering my pistol just below center mass. My face flushed with anger, the balaclava hiding most of it.
My father turned around. “Major.”
“Holy shit.” Spencer gasped, closing the door quietly behind us and drawing her gun on my father. If we survived this mission, that alone would have been enough to have her court martialed.
“I’m surprised to see you here.” His voice was steady, tapping his hand along the whiskey glass in his hand.
My eyes darted down his uniform, the four stars of his rank along the cuffs of his suit jacket, badges and medals collecting around his heart. His hair was gray now. The last time I saw him, he still had a few dark hairs holding on.
He looked at Spencer and laughed. “Put that down, kid. You don’t know who you’re pointing that thing at.”
Unflinching, Spencer kept her pistol fixed on him. She didn’t answer to him.
I snapped out of my haze, lifting my weapon to his chest. “You’re a fucking monster.”
Groaning, my dad took a drink of his whiskey. “Not this shit again.”
“I saw all of it.” I hissed back at him.
He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
It was the kind of bald-faced lie that got him nominated to the President’s Cabinet. A willingness to lie to hold his power.
Gritting my teeth, I snarled. “You raped girls. Girls my own age. You fucking joked about selling me to the highest bidder.”
Dad clicked his tongue. “Technically, Isaac made the jokes. But that’s the past. There’s no evidence, Leona.”
“I read the fucking emails with my own eyes, read every word of the victim testimony.” I growled back. Next to me, I could feel Spencer stiffen. Memories of her own mother’s statements surely rushing back to her mind.
The general scoffed. “Rumors, all of it. Jealous women who lied about powerful men. A tale as old as time.”
He was old now, a man well past his military prime. Slower and clumsier, he knew his options to get out of here alive were low.
“Just put the gun down.” Dad said as he set his whiskey glass on a dresser, hoping still to deescalate.
Soft violins drifted in from the open balcony door.
Canon in D. That’s the signal.
My eyes flicked to Spencer. We were out of time.
It was just enough time for my dad to lunge forward.
I heard the whistle of the bullet before I even felt my finger pulling the trigger. The blood poured from his chest cavity before I could even lower the pistol.
Looking down, my father put his fingers to the crimson flowing from his pristine, white shirt. When he tried to speak, all that came out were stutters as his grip on his chest tightened.
Neither Spencer nor I could move fast enough to quiet his fall to the Italian marble floors.
All I could do was stare down as his body seized and spluttered for help. I wished in that moment that I cared more that I was watching my father bleed out.
But there was no denying that he was a real fucking bastard.
The world is better without him in it.
“Sniper.” Spencer signalled out the window, bringing her hand to her eyes in a rounded scope motion.
My eyes flicked up, the only thing that could tear me out of my hatred for the General was knowing Kiera was in danger.
The sniper was training his scope on the crowd, surely having spotted Kiera in the front row. His hand came to his ear, hitting his comms for clearance before he took his shot.
We had a matter of seconds to stop him. And if there was one sniper, there would be back up.
The sniper rifle on my back remained unassembled. I needed to buy enough time to build it and shoot. All before Kiera took a bullet to the heart.
Looking at my father’s body, I gritted my teeth.
That’s an idea.