The files. The evidence we'd stolen from Marcel's office. Financial records that had seemed like random transactions until Adrian's people started connecting them.
“Property purchases under shell companies,” I said, remembering the briefing from this morning. “All traced back to accounts Marcel controlled. Adrian's forensic team found the pattern in four hours.”
“Offshore holdings in three countries,” Dom added. “But only one with a manor house fortified like a military installation.”
Hollowvale Manor. Purchased six years ago under a company called Devereux Holdings International. Hidden in plain sight. Close enough to London to be convenient. Far enough to be private.
The perfect bolt-hole for a man who'd been planning his escape for years.
“The utility records gave it away,” Viktor said. “Manor supposedly empty. But power consumption suggested full staff. Security system drawing constant power. Adrian's people cross-referenced with satellite imagery. Saw the modifications. The fortifications.”
“And the fact that a 'medical supply convoy' delivered enough food and ammunition for a siege last week,” I finished. “Marcel knew we were coming. Just didn't know when.”
Dom's mouth curved. “Now he does.”
“Heat signatures everywhere,” Noah's voice crackled through the comm. He was monitoring from the mobile command center a mile back. Safe. Out of range. Exactly where Adrian had demanded he stay. “Looks like he bought himself an army.”
“How many?” Viktor asked. Voice flat. Professional.
“Fifteen. Maybe twenty. All armed. Moving in patrols.”
“Fuck,” Dom muttered.
“This ends tonight,” I said. Loading my bow. Feeling the familiar weight settle into my hands. The grip warm from my palm. My mother's necklace wound around it like a prayer.
Viktor glanced at me in the rearview mirror. Eyes finding mine. “You sure about that?”
“Not even slightly.” I grinned despite everything. “But when has that stopped me?”
His mouth twitched. Almost a smile. “Never.”
The moment stretched. Just us. The rain. The knowledge that we were about to walk into hell together.
“You two are disgustingly sweet,” Dom said. “Makes me want to vomit.”
“Shut up,” Viktor replied. No heat. Just affection.
“Make me.”
“Later. When I am not driving.”
I laughed. Couldn't help it. The sound came out wrong. Too high. Too sharp. Adrenaline already flooding my system.
We killed the lights a quarter mile out. Viktor navigated bymemory and lightning flashes. The road turned from pavement to gravel to mud. Trees pressed in on both sides. Dense. Dark. Hiding us or trapping us, hard to tell which.
Hollowvale's gates appeared through the rain. Wrought iron. Twelve feet tall. Cameras mounted at every angle.
Viktor stopped the SUV. Dmitri and Troy pulled up beside us.
“Luka?” Viktor said into the comm.
“East perimeter secured. Two guards down. Clean.” Luka's voice carried the slight accent that thickened when he was working. “You're clear to breach.”
Dom pulled out a small device. EMP designed to fry the cameras without alerting the main system. Thirty seconds of darkness. That's all we'd get.
“Ready?” he asked.
I nocked an arrow. “Always.”
