Page 21 of Soulmate of the Mafia King
“Should’ve thought of that earlier.” I took aim at his head.
“Mr. Farhat is not at his house, either!”
CHAPTER 16
TOMMASO
We waited for another five minutes. Nothing came through on my phone. Nothing moved at the house. The goosebumps wouldn’t completely leave, but I shoved them out of my mind. Probably just nerves. Maybe Zahur had the bulk of his men inside. I silenced my phone and gestured everyone over. The grappling hooks swung again. I glanced at Teddy. He nodded and lifted a packet of explosives. He and two other guys would stay on this side, waiting for the final signal to blow the wall. The first three mercs made it over. Then, another wave.
Takka-takka-tak.
Carp swore as automatic gunfire split the night, and floodlights flicked on. I launched myself at the ropes to get over. We had to move before Zahur’s guys wised up and unhooked our only way over. We could always blow the wall early, but I didn’t want the cops here any sooner than necessary.
On the other side of the wall, it was already chaos. The “handful of men” Killian had seen suddenly tripled in number, raining bullets down from turrets and balconies overhead. With the floodlights on, we were like fish in a fucking barrel. Gunfire chewed up the dirt next to me, and I dove for cover behind a tricking fountain.
A body tumbled off the wall behind me. I couldn’t be sure, with the masks, but I was pretty fucking confident it was one of the mercs. I leaned out from behind the main pillar of the fountain and unleashed my own spray of automatic bullets, silenced in case this actually went to fucking plan. The gun rattled in my hands, much more powerful than the pistols I was used to, but the yelp of pain was exactly what I was expecting. One of the dozens of armed men shooting down at us tumbled away.
We needed a way in. I scanned the day-bright garden. From the fountain, I could sprint to an open-topped gazebo covered in ivy that would at least break my outline, and then I thought I’d be close enough to the walls that they wouldn’t be able to get line of sight. I could hug the house to the tower and?—
We couldn’t go to the fucking minaret anymore. We couldn’t bring the fighting to the women inside.
“Hug the walls!” I hollered. “No more climbing. Follow me to a door!”
Affirmatives echoed across the battlefield. One cut off on a scream, but I couldn’t look. We’d collect the bodies on the way out, and there was no combat medicine on a field like this.
I darted for the gazebo along a stone pathway. Debris scattered into the air behind me, cutting into the backs of my legs. I gritted my teeth against the pain. A man like Zahur didn’t inspire loyalty. He inspired fear and economic dependence. Once we got inside, once I dropped him like the sack of shit he was, the rest of these men would stop fighting. I had to believe that.
Bullets sliced through the ivy. I dodged from post to post. Arabic echoed overhead. I had one last sprint to the wall, and from this angle, that sprint looked a lot less hidden than it had from the other side of the garden. Two men, my own, appeared behind me, and stared at the clear ground with wary eyes.
I took a deep breath. “No new widows.”
They nodded, and as one, we bolted. One of the men next to me screamed as a bullet caught him in the shoulder. I didn’t miss a beat. Me and the other guy slammed ourselves against the wall, panting. He didn’t look at our fallen comrade either. We just crept along the fine, white stone along the outside of Zahur’s house, rolling below the windows, until we found a single door.
I tried the knob. Locked, of course. I met the other guy’s eye and raised my gun. He nodded, and we fired into the knob until the door swung open on its own.
“Door!” I hollered.
No answer. They’d heard me or they hadn’t. I had to go in, trusting my life to a man I might’ve bought just the same as Zahur bought his.
Anything for the women inside. Anything for Paige to sleep peacefully at night.
We crept inside. The first room, another pillow-laden sitting area, was empty. I gestured for the guy to stop and poked my head out into the dimly lit hallway beyond.
Small, green circles caught the light farther down the hallway. I didn’t recognize the reflection of the night-vision goggles fast enough. Bullets sliced through the air, and pain exploded in my shoulder.
“Shit.” I ducked back into the room.
The other gun ran to me. “You need to get out?”
I clutched my left shoulder, breathing through the nausea. It hurt like a bitch, but I’d live. “And let you have all the fun?”
A few of my guys poured into the room behind us. I nodded down the hall.
“Hit every goddamn light switch you see,” I hissed.
They nodded and flooded into the hall. Gunfire hissed through the air. I hefted my rifle, braced it against my right shoulder, and stepped into the hall.
Light flared to life, and Zahur’s men yelled and tore at their night-vision goggles. I laughed, scooped one of the abandoned sets up, and turned away from the scrap. He was smart, the bastard. He’d congregate his men away from him, try to lead us away. At least, that was what I would do. I prowled the hallways, listening to fight after fight break out as more of my men made it inside and dropped small clusters of Zahur’s men. None of these rooms looked fucking familiar. All of them looked the goddamn same. I picked up one, two, three of the men I’d brought in with me, all of us unidentifiable to each other, all stalking the bastard’s house like predators in the night. No Zahur.
