Page 17 of Sean Collins

Creeping down the hall, I duck into a doorway, just in time for a man with a large gun to pass by. I hold my breath and wait for him to round the corner before opening one of the double doors and slipping inside.

The snoring that greets me makes me roll my eyes. The monster sleeps soundly there, unaware that he is about to take his last breath. I pull out my blade and press it to his throat before punching his nose and covering his mouth.

Mikhail sputters in his sleep and looks at me with wide eyes as my blade digs a little into his skin, causing a dribble of blood to appear. I would like nothing more than to slide the knife across his throat and feel his blood gush over my hand, but I have priorities.

“Hello, Mikhail. I am here for answers. Got it?”

The man nods slowly.

“Tell me about Operation Sandcastle,” I whisper.

Taking my hand away from his mouth, I watch Mikhail for any sign of screaming for help.

“You look familiar,” Mikhail utters. “Operation Sandcastle, you say? That is not a name I thought I would hear again. Those Guardians were always getting in my way.” He spits the organization’s name out, and I dig the knife deeper.

“Tell me what happened,” I growl into his ear.

“Those rich do-gooders stuck their noses in the wrong person’s business. When they started to cut into my profits, I sent an elite team to bury them,” he replies.

“I want to know who among the Guardians you killed.”

Mikhail shrugs, despite the knife pressed to his throat. “You have to more specific; I took out a lot of trash during that time.”

It takes all of my efforts not to slit his throat right there. “Tom and Kathy Longford.”

His eyes brighten with recognition. “Yes, I remember them. You look so much like your mother. She was so pretty; it was such a waste. I would have rather brought her into the fold and use her as a gift to my men. Alas, it wasn’t meant to be.”

Rage clouds my vision, and I put more pressure on the knife in my hand. “Tell me who did the deed,” I say through gritted teeth. “What was the name of the assassin you used to kill my parents?”

He shrugs. “This has been a fun game, my dear, but you know that you aren’t getting out of here alive. If you kill me, my men will hunt you down. If you don’t, I will raise the alarm. The question is, do I let you die with your questions answered or torture you until your last moments?”

Before I can react, Mikhail bellows out to his guards. The double doors fly open, and the distraction is enough for Mikhail to get ahold of my wrist. He twists it painfully, and the knife drops from my boneless fingers.

“Stupid girl,” he chides. “Now, you will die without the answers you seek. Or should I give you to my men as a gift?” Mikhail pretends to think before ordering, “Take her to the cell while I haven’t decided about what to do with her.”

More men pour into the room, dragging me away. All I can see is the smirk on the face of the man who had my parents killed. If it is the last thing I do, his death will be on my hands.

Chapter Twenty

Sean

“This place is worse than the last one. It looks like old Mikhail has upgraded his rat hole. We must have really scared him last time.” Creed chuckles as we all stare up at the massively fortified mansion in front of us.

“Here is the plan, boys. We go in quickly and quietly, subdue the guards, and attack them before they know what’s coming. If we are lucky, we can find Elora and get out before they even find us.”

“Boss, I don’t think quick and quiet is going to work,” Torque says, pointing at the mansion.

I whirl around and watch as lights start to go on all over the mansion. The dark and quiet place a few moments ago is now buzzing with activity.They must have found Elora.I look at my assembled crew. “New plan,” I say, “We will go in as quickly and loudly as possible. Take down as many as you can, but be careful.”

When the guys nod, everyone races across the manicured lawn. Torque punches the guard at the front door before kicking it down. The other members pour through the door to grapple the Russians in sight.

“Torque, Creed, you’re with me,” I call out as I mount the stairs kicking and punching the henchmen I encounter. I hear a scream as Torque throws a guy over the railing, and then we are hitting the landing.

“Which way do we go?” Creed asks, catching up with us and breathing heavily.

I look down the corridor and point to the ornate double doors down the hallway.

“There,” I utter. “That bastard would fancy up his rathole.”

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