Chapter 9 - Siege at Midnight
The world dissolved into fire, smoke, and thunder.
Another deafening blast rocked the eastern wing of the house. Plaster rained down from the ceiling, and the lights flickered violently before plunging the room into the harsh red glow of emergency backup power.
"They're bypassing the courtyard!" Marco yelled over the deafening chatter of gunfire erupting outside. "Russian mercenaries! At least thirty men, full tactical gear!"
Luca didn't panic. His movements were terrifyingly precise. He pulled a submachine gun from beneath the console, racked the slide with a sharp metallic clack, and strapped two extra magazines to his belt.
He crossed the room in two strides, grabbed Elena by the arm, and pulled her behind the heavy mahogany desk.
"Stay down," he commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Keep your head below the wood. This desk is reinforced with steel plates."
"They're going to kill us," Elena breathed, terror seizing her lungs. Her ears rang from the concussive force of the explosions. "My father sent them to kill me!"
"They have to get through me first," Luca said, his amber eyes burning with a savage, lethal fire.
The front doors blew inward with a cataclysmic boom.
Shouts in Russian echoed through the vaulted foyer, immediately answered by the thunderous roar of Luca's security detail. Elena curled into a tight ball beneath the desk, covering her ears as bullets shredded the drywall and shattered the priceless paintings in the hall. The air filled with the choking stench of cordite and pulverized concrete.
Luca leaned around the doorframe, firing in controlled, devastating bursts. Two mercenaries collapsed in the hallway, their bodies skidding across the marble floor.
"Marco! Fall back to the lower stairs!" Luca shouted into his radio. "Flank them from the wine cellar!"
A sudden shriek tore through the air—a flashbang grenade rolled across the hardwood floor into the office.
"Down!" Luca roared.
He didn't seek cover behind the wall. He dove across the room, throwing his heavy, armored body directly over Elena, shielding her head and chest with his own torso.
The grenade detonated.
A blinding white light scorched the room, followed by a shockwave that felt like a sledgehammer slamming into Elena’s skull. A hail of shrapnel and splinters peppered the air. Luca grunted, a sharp, guttural sound, his body jolting violently above her.
For a moment, all Elena could hear was a high-pitched ringing. The room was thick with gray smoke.
She opened her eyes. Luca was still hovering over her, breathing heavily. His face was inches from hers, tight with pain. A dark line of blood dripped from his temple, and as he shifted, she saw the jagged tear in the back of his tactical vest where a piece of flying steel had sliced through into his left shoulder.
"Luca..." she gasped, reaching up. Her hand came away slick with warm, dark crimson. "You're hit."
He locked his jaw, his eyes blazing through the pain. "I've had worse."
Heavy bootsteps crunched on broken glass just outside the office door. A mercenary stepped through the smoke, raising an AK-12 directly at Elena's head.
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Before the man could pull the trigger, Luca spun on his knees. With blinding speed, his right hand drew his sidearm and fired twice. Both rounds punched through the mercenary's visor. The man collapsed like a marionette with cut strings.
Luca hauled Elena to her feet, his breathing ragged. "The tunnel in the basement. Move. Now!"
