Chapter 7 - The Purge of the Estate
The gunshot shattered the quiet night, sending the remaining four mercenaries into a frenzy of tactical movement.
The second gunman turned violently, raising his submachine gun to open fire, but I had already dropped behind the heavy oak dining table. Automatic rounds chewed through the antique wood, showering splinters across the rug.
Before he could adjust his fire, the heavy glass skylights above the main foyer exploded inward in a shower of brilliant crystal shards!
Four black-clad tactical operators descended from ropes suspended from a hovering black helicopter!
Marco Rossellini hit the marble floor first, rolling smoothly to his feet and firing three precise shots from his suppressed assault rifle, neutralizing the second mercenary before the man could even scream.
Within ninety seconds, the grand foyer was turned into a warzone. Marco’s strike team moved with terrifying, surgical precision, sweeping through the mansion wing by wing, neutralizing Aldo’s mercenaries with lethal efficiency.
The red emergency lights flickered back to warm white as Marco’s technical team restored the main power grid.
Marco walked across the ruined gallery, stepping over broken glass and fallen debris, lowering his rifle as he approached me. He looked at my pale, bruised face, then down at the smoking revolver in my hand.
"You look like hell, Dario," Marco said, a faint, rare smile touching his scarred face.
"I've felt better, Marco," I rasped, letting out a heavy sigh as I leaned against the dining table. "Did you secure the perimeter?"
"The grounds are locked down solid," Marco confirmed. "We captured three of Aldo’s men alive outside the gatehouse. They’re already talking. Aldo was planning to transfer fifty million dollars out of your Cayman accounts at midnight."
"Where is Aldo?" I asked, my voice turning icy.
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Marco pointed toward the heavy oak wardrobe standing in the corner of the gallery. "My men just pulled him out of the maintenance shaft. His leg is broken in two places from the fall, but he's alive."
"Bring him to my study," I commanded. "It's time to close the ledger."
