Chapter 4 - Ambush at the Apartment
The emotional warmth in the room evaporated instantly, replaced by the freezing, brutal air of survival.
Adrian snapped back to reality. He wiped his face with a swift movement, his grief vanishing instantly behind the cold, lethal mask of a mafia don. He stood up, shielding Lily behind his leg.
"How many?" Adrian asked, his voice dead calm.
"At least twelve men in the lobby, heavily armed. Tactical gear. They took out our front guards with silenced weapons," Vincent reported, racking the slide of his Glock 19. "Two more vans just pulled up outside. They blocked the street. Volkov came in person, boss. He wants your head tonight."
Sarah gasped, grabbing Lily and pulling her into her arms. Lily began to cry, confused by the sudden change in energy and the sight of Vincent’s gun.
"Shh, baby, it’s okay," Sarah panicked, backing toward the rear bedroom. "Adrian, what do we do? Oh God, they're going to kill us!"
"They won't touch you," Adrian said firmly, stepping toward her and placing his hand on her cheek. "I swear on my life, Sarah. Neither you nor Lily will be harmed tonight."
Suddenly, the muffled sound of suppressed gunfire echoed from the elevator shaft outside in the hallway, followed by heavy footsteps echoing on the tile floor.
Pfft-pfft-pfft!
"They're on the floor!" one of Adrian's guards yelled from outside the apartment door.
"Fallback! Defend the door!"
A violent burst of automatic gunfire shattered the quiet night. The wooden door of Apartment 5B was instantly shredded by high-caliber rounds, wood splinters flying across the living room like shrapnel. Sarah screamed, dropping to the floor and covering Lily with her body.
Adrian grabbed Sarah and hauled both her and Lily into the hallway leading to the back bedrooms, completely out of the line of fire from the main entrance.
"Vincent! Flank the hallway!" Adrian barked, drawing a sleek black Sig Sauer from his shoulder holster despite the searing agony radiating through his left collarbone.
"They brought breaching charges!" Vincent yelled back, firing three rounds through the shredded doorway into the darkened corridor outside. An enemy gunman collapsed in the doorway with a heavy thud, his weapon clattering across the floor.
BOOM!
A flashbang grenade exploded in the entryway, filling the apartment with blinding white light and a deafening, high-pitched ringing sound.
Adrian felt his vision blur. The sudden surge of adrenaline rushed through his bloodstream like liquid fire. Deep inside his chest, his heart began to skip erratically.
Thump... thump... thump-thump-thump-thump!
The arrhythmia was triggering. His heart rate skyrocketed to over 180 beats per minute. Dizziness hit him like a physical blow, threatening to knock him to his knees. His field of vision narrowed to a pinhole.
Not now! Adrian screamed internally, slamming his fist against his own chest to force his body to comply. Not in front of my daughter!
Through the smoke and ringing in his ears, three men in heavy tactical armor surged through the shattered doorway, their assault rifles raised.
"Clear the room! Find the kid!" a Russian-accented voice barked.
Seeing a gunman aim his weapon toward the back hallway where Sarah and Lily were hiding, Adrian's maternal instincts overtook his bodily failure. Pushing past the blinding pain and dizziness, he stepped out from behind the cover of the kitchen wall and fired four rapid shots.
The hollow-point bullets struck the first Russian operative cleanly through the throat and chest, sending him crashing into a glass coffee table.
Vincent moved like a phantom, stepping beside Adrian to eliminate the second attacker with a point-blank shot to the temple. The third Russian attempted to raise his rifle, but Adrian lunged forward, grabbing the barrel of the gun, forcing it toward the ceiling as a hail of bullets tore through the drywall above.
Adrian slammed his elbow into the soldier’s helmet visor, shattering the glass, then drove his tactical knife deep under the man’s body armor into his armpit. The soldier groaned and collapsed.
"Boss! Your heart!" Vincent yelled, seeing Adrian swaying on his feet, sweat pouring off his deathly pale face.
"Move them... to the fire escape..." Adrian gasped, gripping his chest tightly. "Go!"
Before they could reach the bedroom, a heavy, cultured voice boomed from the hallway outside, amplified by a megaphone.
May you like
"Adrian Moretti! Come out, come out, little bird!"
It was Dimitri Volkov.
