Chapter 6 - NIGHT OF THE HUNT
Inside the pitch-black mansion, Marcus’s mercenaries panicked, switching on their tactical weapon lights.
To trained soldiers, flashlights in a dark room were nothing more than targets.
Lorenzo, equipped with night-vision goggles retrieved from the security armory, moved through the shadows like a phantom.
Phut... phut...
His suppressed pistol clicked twice. Two mercenaries fell to the hardwood floor before they even realized where the shots came from.
Lorenzo moved up the grand secondary staircase, taking out two more gunmen flanked near the library doors.
Marcus frantically backed away down the corridor, firing wildly into the gloom. "Flank him! He's on the west wing landing!"
"He's not on the landing, Marcus," Lorenzo’s voice whispered from the darkness directly behind him.
Marcus spun around in terror, raising his rifle, but Lorenzo swung the heavy butt of his tactical shotgun, smashing Marcus’s jaw and sending him crashing onto the marble floor, his weapon skittering away into the dark.
Lorenzo stepped forward, pressing the barrel of his shotgun directly against Marcus’s chest.
"Where is Victoria?" Lorenzo growled.
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"The... the helipad on the roof..." Marcus wheezed, coughing blood. "She has a private chopper arriving in three minutes... she has the offshore access keys..."
Lorenzo slammed the butt of his weapon into Marcus’s temple, knocking him unconscious, and turned toward the roof stairs.
