Page 44 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

Which means our bombs are going to go off right about…

Now.

A huge, bone-rattling boom erupts. I hear screams of pain, the bellows of dying men. Shrapnel and fragments of concrete explode through the night.

And one by one, the exterior doors of the cartel compound fall clattering to the earth.

I lead two of the four-man teams into the western entrance. Already, the pepper of gunfire has begun.

The eastbound teams have the job of drawing off the bulk of security. All my most bloodthirsty soldiers were assigned that task.

No one leaves alive,I told them in our final briefing before tonight’s assault.

The eager grins on their faces told me they understood perfectly.

The men at my side now—Cillian included—are more subtle. The kind of cold-blooded bastards who spend their days raising innocent kids with oblivious wives—and spend their nights slicing throats for the Bratva.

Invisible killers.

My pack broaches the security perimeter. Right on cue, the two point men unleash a quick burst of fire to take out the exterior cameras and floodlights.

Instant darkness.

I give Dimitri, my demo expert, the signal. He runs forward with the breaching charges and plants them against the small iron door set in the wall.

We all take cover a few yards away.

A tinyboom.

This door falls just like the rest of them.

We waste no time. Practically the second the charges have detonated, we’re already siphoning in through the opening. Guns at the ready and heads on a swivel in case any rogue security notices our arrival.

The hallway is eerily silent, except for the occasional burst of gunfire or dying screams from the far side of the compound.

We’re alone…

Until we aren’t.

A pair of straggling guards round the corner at a dead sprint.

They hardly have time to come to a complete stop before each of them is sporting a fresh bullet hole in the head.

And we keep moving, running past them and scanning. Always scanning.

“Fan out,” I bark. “Check all the rooms.”

We move as a single unit, spreading out to encompass the hallway and flow down it with ruthless efficiency.

Fuck,it feels so good to be here again—in the heart of the action.

There are no nightmares here.

No weakness.

Just the purity of might makes right.

Five minutes go by in a flash without any other sign of life. We clear one hallway and then the next.

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