Page 56 of Destroy Me
The stone three-story house had once been a manor according to Mack, abandoned in the sixties for reasons no one in the village remembered, left to rot. Electricity still worked—the soft orange glow in the windows of both the main building and a carriage house to one side spread uninhibited by trees or vegetation in the clearing that surrounded them. Ferrina knew the value of seeing your enemy coming.
The upper floors of the manor appeared empty, though on closer inspection Fionn caught the occasional shadow passing a window. Guards. The first-floor windows were covered with something pale—sheets, maybe?—that blocked sight but still allowed light out. Three guards that Fionn could see patrolled the grounds, two with leashed dogs at their sides. Other men entered and left the carriage house. Probably where Ferrina was housing his men.
“Maybe a dozen guards,” Deacon said in his ear.
Fionn grunted. “No sign of Ferrina.” No doubt he was somewhere on the first floor, safe and sound behind his stone walls and curtains.
“No,” Mack agreed. “But if he is here, then we know what we’re up against. The chances of it being anyone else… I don’t know anyone local who would have this kind of setup.”
They’d already known the four men they’d taken out at the apartment were no more than a drop in the bucket compared to what Ferrina had access to, so yeah. Far more manpower than they could hope to combat. Why hadn’t Ferrina stormed Mack’s house? With this many men, it would’ve been easy.
Fionn wiped sweat from his brow.
“There’s a front door, and the one here at the back.” Mack nodded toward what looked like a cellar built into the back of the house. “Not sure what other egress is available.”
“Let’s find out then.” Leaving Mack in position, he eased farther west, bringing the far side of the house and the driveway into view. As he watched, an SUV, lights shining in Fionn’s eyes, pulled up and parked just outside an entrance opening onto the driveway.
The minute the engine cut out on the vehicle, Fionn knew they were in trouble. The sound of muffled screams and fighting could be heard even from his position. Sure enough, the back passenger door opened, admitting a tall, broad-shouldered man built like a tank. He reached back into the SUV and dragged a woman out by a harsh grip on her arm. The woman cried and fought, to no effect.
Mack cursed in Fionn’s earpiece. “That’s the Walsh girl. Kelly.”
Someone from the village then. She was fairly young, around twenty, her silky shirt and tight jeans suggesting she’d been out on the town, maybe at a pub. Probably had the misfortune to get separated from her girlfriends—and Ferrina’s thugs had been lying in wait. This woman had been chosen for one reason only, a delivery to slake Ferrina’s appetite. Tomorrow she’d be dumped on the side of the road, dead, unable to identify her killer.
Shit, shit, shit.
“Fionn?” Deacon asked.
“I see it.” He turned his head as Mack eased up to him. “How do you want to be handling this, Mack?”
“Well I sure as hell ain’t doing nothin’.”
Fionn nodded. “Thought you’d say that.” Then, “Deacon, it’s a go.”
Two seconds later the man dragging the woman up the steps to the door shouted, crumpling to the side as a bright splash of red erupted from his side. Deacon had gone for chaos over kill shots, and it worked. The shout of the guard, the woman’s screams, and the blood all sent the dogs into a frenzy of barking and lunging. Men rushed from the carriage house to see what had happened. The side door opened, releasing more guards with guns at the ready. Deacon aimed another shot near the door, this time hitting the house instead of a body, sending every man in the vicinity into a crouch to avoid getting shot.
The girl broke away, heading for the woods.
Fionn tensed to go after her. “Mack.”
“I’ll get her,” the older man said, already moving to intercept.
Fionn returned his focus to the guards. One was pinned to the side of the SUV, head down, but his gun came up, aiming directly between the girl’s shoulders as she scrambled to get away. A quick one-two shot was enough to get his attention back on Fionn—one to the side of the vehicle, another to the man’s thigh.
Deacon whistled in his ear. “Close to the artery. Might’ve even nicked it. Dude could bleed out, Irish.”
“It’ll be more than he deserves.”
“Agreed.”
A guard near the carriage house took aim in Deacon’s vicinity. Fionn caught him in the shoulder, just for variety. Deacon had already moved after that last shot, just as Fionn now moved—Sniper 101—but for Fionn it was the principle of the thing. And the fact that these men deserved to die. They’d been delivering a young girl to her death, just so their boss could get his rocks off. They should get down on their knees and thank God Fionn and Deacon hadn’t taken the head shots they were fully capable of.
Besides, it was easy to step over a dead man and keep coming; a man screaming in agony and dragging at your leg, begging you to help him, was a much bigger disruption.
The woman reached the edge of the woods and disappeared into the darkness. Fionn eased back and to his right, not as quietly as before—the shouts and screams covered his footsteps—but carefully. Deacon would already be heading in that direction to intercept Mack and the girl, assist if possible. They needed to move out.
The thought was reinforced when a couple of guards emerged from the carriage house with semiautomatics and began spraying the woods along the back of the house with bullets. He moved deeper into the shadows, keeping a wary eye out. Now that it had started, he’d like nothing more than to take Ferrina’s men out, make them hurt as much as possible, but they couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk leaving Lyse and Siobhan a man down if something happened to him. So he retreated despite the fierce need to continue the fight.
Ahead he caught a glimpse of Mack and the woman. She was sobbing, her hands clutching Mack’s vest in a death grip as Mack urged her away from the house. An occasionalpingfrom Deacon’s rifle split the air, keeping Ferrina’s men back to ensure Fionn and Mack’s retreat. His friend would meet them back at the car, he knew. Fionn shot one last look over his shoulder at Ferrina’s compound—and jerked to a halt.
