Chapter 5 - The Execution of the SiegeBOOM! BOOM!
The twin detonations of the flash-bangs echoed across the grand foyer like thunderbolts, blinding and deafening the forty mercenaries crowded near the entrance.
Through the shattered glass of the conservatory windows, Maya moved like a dark phantom of absolute death.
THWIP! THWIP! THWIP! THWIP!
Her suppressed rifle spat cold, lethal precision through the pitch-black darkness. Every round found its target with surgical, military mastery—dropping five mercenaries before they even realized the perimeter had been breached.
Nicolo moved beside her, his weapon barking in rhythm with hers, covering her flanks as they swept through the grand hallway like a two-person army.
For twenty minutes, the stone halls of the Bandi Estate became a killing field for Victor Rostova’s elite mercenaries.
By 5:40 PM, forty-eight mercenaries lay dead or disarmed across the marble floorboards, while the remaining nineteen surrendered their weapons flat on the lawn as Marco’s men secured the gates.
In the center of the grand foyer, bound tightly to a stone pillar, sat Victor Rostova—the fifty-eight-year-old Ukrainian crime boss who had spent five years searching for the woman who had destroyed his cartel.
Rostova’s face was bruised, his clothes ruined, his eyes wild with pure, horrified disbelief as he looked at the woman standing before him under the restored chandelier light.
"Maya Vance..." Rostova stammered, his voice cracking into a high, pathetic squeak. "You... you were hiding in Brooklyn... as a waitress?!"
Maya walked slowly across the marble floor, stopping two inches from Rostova’s face. She didn't draw a gun. She reached up, unclipping her tactical helmet, letting her dark hair fall over her shoulders in glossy waves.
"I wasn't hiding, Victor," Maya revealed, her deep voice echoing through the grand hall with an absolute, sovereign power. "I was giving you time to bring all your men into one room."
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She looked over her shoulder at Nicolo, who walked up beside her, wrapping his broad, warm arm around her waist, pulling her back flush against his solid chest.
"Take him to the federal task force downtown, Marco," Nicolo commanded deadpan. "Tell Agent Vance his commander just delivered the Rostova cartel on a silver platter."
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