Chapter 5 - Fire and Judgment
Thirty seconds later, brilliant orange flames erupted through the East Wing as thermite ate through the grand staircase, triggering the estate’s industrial sprinkler system. Sirens blared loudly through the dark house, and cold water poured from the ceilings in heavy cascades.
In the basement vestibule outside the wine cellar, Kozlov screamed over the noise of the alarm. "What the hell is happening up there?! Anton, take three men and check the gallery!"
As four mercenaries turned to rush up the stone stairs, Claire popped up from behind a stack of oak wine barrels!
Her assault rifle barked in short, deadly bursts! Three mercenaries collapsed instantly into the pooling water on the floor, their blood mixing with the runoff!
"AMBUSH!" Kozlov bellowed, diving behind a heavy brick archway as bullets chipped stone all around him.
Julian, the CFO, panicked completely, dropping his briefcase and dropping to his knees with his hands over his head. "Don't shoot! I'm just the accountant! I was forced into this!"
I stepped out from the darkness behind the C4 charges Kozlov had placed against the bunker door. I kicked the explosive detonator block away, stepping into the center of the wine cellar with my weapon leveled at my former financial chief.
"You were forced, Julian?" I asked, my voice cutting through the noise of the sirens. "Was it force when you tried to poison a seventeen-year-old girl with thallium?"
Julian looked up, his face slick with sweat and rain from the sprinklers. "Vance... please! Kozlov threatened my family! He said he'd kill my wife if I didn't help him liquidate your assets!"
"You lied," Claire’s voice echoed from the top of the stairs as she stepped down, her rifle pointed at Kozlov’s hiding spot. "We checked your private offshore accounts from the bunker console ten minutes ago, Julian. You transferred twenty million dollars from Vance's trust into your personal account in Switzerland three days before the warehouse burned. You weren't threatened. You were greedy."
Before Julian could answer, Kozlov lunged from behind the brick archway, firing wild shots from his golden revolver!
A bullet grazed my left shoulder, spinning me backward!
Claire fired instantly, her round catching Kozlov square in the knee! The mob boss screamed, collapsing onto the wet floor, his revolver skittering across the room.
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I stepped forward, ignoring the burning pain in my shoulder, and planted my boot heavily onto Kozlov’s chest, pinning him to the floor.
"It's over, Viktor," I said, pressing the hot barrel of my rifle directly against his forehead. "Tell me about the night my wife died three years ago. Tell me, or I swear to God I won't leave enough of you for a coffin."
