Page 91 of Forbidden Vows

“Go ahead, Robin,” I reply.

“Target confirmed,” he says. “Kuznetsov is inside. Heat scans show us two dozen live bodies in there.”

“Any sign of my wife and her stepsister?”

“Top floor, back office. Judging by the heat signatures, it’s them. Eileen and Ciara are both alive, sir.”

“Good. We proceed as planned. I’ll be out in one minute.”

“Roger that, Eagle. I’ll be waiting.”

I check my weapons and the rest of my equipment one last time, then shake Tommy’s hand. “If something happens, I want you to know it was a pleasure,” I tell him.

“Just go get your wife and let me be the godfather to your twins,” he replies. “Take that psychopath down once and for all.”

Here’s to wishful thinking, because I’m preparing for the worst.

Kuznetsov isn’t the deadly one, though. It’s his team I’m worried about. They’re ruthless assassins, most of them born and bred in the former Soviet Union, several in the military and the FSB before they came to America.

My wife is in there and I’m getting her out alive.

No matter what.

Tommy stays behind, comfortable in the passenger seat while I make my way up the road. I stick to the shadows cast by the derelict buildings and once-booming factories and manufacturing plants. This part of town used to keep the whole city pumping tons of money into the state’s coffers. But the market crash eventually found its way here and nobody was spared.

Declan meets me across the street from the address of the warehouse that Lee gave us. Clad in black and joined by eight of his most capable mercenaries, he gives me a reassuring nod. “We’re ready, sir,” he says.

“There’s more of them than there are of us,” I remind him.

“Quality trumps quantity, sir.”

I appreciate the confidence with a slight nod. “Points of ingress?”

We go over the building blueprints together, agreeing on the steps we’ll take in order to get inside. We will neutralize every hostile in sight.

The more I look at these lines of white on dark blue paper, the tighter the knot in my stomach becomes. Eileen is up there. Scared and vulnerable. At least she’s got Ciara with her.

“I’m first through the door,” I instruct. “Declan, you’re with me. The rest of you know what to do. Keep your eyes sharp and your earpieces in, no matter what. We need to be as quiet as possible.”

Declan shows me the silencers mounted on each of their semi- and fully automatic weapons. “Discretion is part of the package, sir. But do we have a contingency plan in place?”

“Cops are the best choice should the worst happen.”

“And the absolute worst?” he asks.

I give him a wry smile. “You have a bad history with them.”

“Mancini.”

Declan’s younger sister was killed in a turf war between the Mancinis and the Lopez gang about eight years ago, somewhereon the South Side. I know from Ian that he doesn’t play well with the Italians, in general, but that he has a particularly sharp bone to pick with the Mancinis. Hopefully, it won’t get that far.

“Alright, let’s roll.” I give the order.

A minute ticks by in tomb-like silence as Declan and I make our way across the warehouse yard, careful to stay in the shadows. Ian’s voice comes through my earpiece.

“Nest to Eagle.”

“Ian, what the fuck are you doing?” I hiss, my gaze darting all over the place.

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