Chapter 13 - The Siege
The heavy steel door of the safehouse groaned under the impact of a breaching explosive.
Dust and debris rained down from the ceiling as the shockwave rattled my teeth.
I positioned myself behind a reinforced concrete pillar in the main hallway, my rifle raised and steady.
Miller took the opposite flank, his weapon trained on the smoking doorway.
Two mercenaries stepped through the smoke, their assault rifles sweeping the room with laser sights.
I did not hesitate, squeezing the trigger and dropping the first man with two precise shots to the chest.
Miller laid down suppressing fire, forcing the second mercenary to dive for cover behind a tipped-over table.
The deafening roar of gunfire echoed through the confined space, smelling sharply of sulfur and cordite.
I moved aggressively, flanking the pinned mercenary and neutralizing him before he could reload.
Suddenly, a massive figure stepped into the doorway, completely unfazed by the chaos.
It was Volkov.
He raised a heavy shotgun and fired, the blast shattering the concrete just inches from my face.
Shrapnel sliced across my cheek, sending a warm stream of blood down my neck.
I ignored the pain, rolling across the floor and returning fire, but his heavy tactical armor absorbed the rounds.
Volkov racked the shotgun, a cruel smile twisting his scarred face as he aimed directly at my chest.
Before he could pull the trigger, Miller tackled him from the side, sending both men crashing into the wall.
I scrambled to my feet, drawing my sidearm in a fluid motion.
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I pressed the barrel directly against the weak point in Volkov’s helmet and pulled the trigger.
The siege was over, but the message was clear.
