Page 74 of Devil's Retribution

The vans split off from us as we drew near the high-walled compound, which gleamed in the moonlight like a glacier amid the black trees. Every window glowed. I could see guard towers, like the place was a prison.

Viktor saw them too. I heard him giving orders and didn’t understand a word of it. I guessed I’d better study up on my Russian if we we’re making this a permanent thing.

Even in the midst of all this insanity, that thought made me happy. But before we could act on it, I had to get through this night.

***

Viktor had the driver get out and leave well before we got near the gates. Apparently, he hadn’t signed up to drive us through a firefight.

Viktor got into the driver’s seat but told me flatly to stay in back. “I do not trust the quality of this thing’s armored glass, not against rifle bullets. We will hang back until they are softened up and the gates are open.”

I nodded, in no hurry to drive into a free-fire zone.

Soon, the compound erupted into gunfire on all sides. I heard the thuds of small explosions, the crash of tiles and windows breaking, and even a few screams. I shuddered, the full horror of it washing through me, even as I struggled against it.

You knew it would be like this. But knowing in my head and experiencing it were two very different things. The fight in the penthouse had been over in two shots. But this?

War. This was war, and you knew it would be war.

But I couldn’t stop shaking.

Suddenly, in the middle of barking orders, Viktor reached back and captured one of my hands, squeezing it gently and reassuringly. He looked at me, and said, “The first time is always the worst, Emma. We are winning. Trust in my command of my men.”

I nodded, and did, and sat there breathing deep and fighting my fear until it was time and he drove the SUV forward toward the gates. “They have captured the towers and the guardroom. We have yet to penetrate the house.”

The gates rattled open, sounding damaged. I could see bodies lying beyond it, mostly in the lighter uniforms of my uncle’s men. Some were still moving. One of Viktor’s men rescued a comrade and carried him out past us.

“Hold on.” Viktor drove right up to the front door, knocking aside a remaining guard who was firing in another direction. I looked away before the man landed, knowing he had to be dead.

We skidded to a stop, and he jumped out, kicking the door open. I followed, staying behind him as he’d instructed but keeping my gun drawn. He had brought a pair of pistols, each almost as long as my forearm, and had one out as we walked inside.

I heard glass breaking and screams in another room. More gunfire sounded near the rear of the house. This is what you signed up for, I reminded myself again.

Room by room, we searched the place. Viktor’s men were fighting the last of the guards—once or twice we came across their handiwork. Blood spatter, bullet holes, more uniformed bodies on the floor. Had they known going in what kind of enemies they would be facing to protect my fool of an uncle?

I doubted it.

It took over an hour to search every room in the sprawling mansion, but by the time we were done Viktor was seething with frustration. “Where the hell is he?” he demanded over the mic and ordered another search. No one had escaped. All of my uncle’s vehicles had been disabled. Every exit was watched.

He was here somewhere. Hiding.

We stood in his master bedroom, which was ridiculous in its luxury, air conditioners humming away constantly, keeping it almost chilly. The bed was rumpled. Drawers and the closet door torn open. His nightshirt on the floor. The attack had clearly thrown him into a panic. But where was he hiding?

Wait.

I looked around, and then noticed how all the clothes on one side of the walk-in closet were shoved aside. I walked in and looked—and saw it. A low steel door with a keypad mounted beside it.

“It’s a panic room,” I said quietly. “He’s in there.”

Viktor came in and looked, and nodded slowly. “How do we get in?”

I considered. I had PINs to several of my uncle’s accounts and his electronic safe at the penthouse back home. He always used one of the same three, every time. I tried them, one by one.

The second one worked. The door lock clunked, and the door swung open. I heard frantic shuffling inside.

Viktor and I looked at each other. “I’m going in first,” he said.

“I’m backing you up.”