We assumed the Russians had early-warning devices around the place, but we had to press on.
Oliver gave me the thumbs-up and the fun began. The lights inside the mansion were on, but nobody was visible. Wolf and I were over the fence and on our way to the breach point at a gallop. I bounded up the front steps and immediately put two rounds into the dead bolt, then two more into the doorknob, rolling away for Wolf to kick it open.
Wolf hit the door with the bottom of his boot as hard as any NFL kicker. It was perfectly choreographed—except that neither of us realized exterior doors in Florida open to the outside, not the inside. The shock of his foot making contact with what was clearly a very solid piece of some exotic South Americanhardwood stopped Wolf dead in his tracks. He fell backward like a bag of cement. If anyone had been sleeping, they weren’t now.
“That was graceful,” I chuckled. “Wonder if they heard that? Ready now?”
Wolf was back on his feet in two seconds, saying, “Yeah, fuck me. Note to self, right?”
I grabbed the doorknob and yanked. Mercifully the 9mm rounds had done the trick and the door opened on my first pull. As I followed Wolf inside, I saw the blur of Oliver’s team closing the distance in a hurry. I hustled to clear entry so they could pass through.
“Clear!” Wolf called.
“Stairs eleven o’clock, deep,” I relayed to Oliver as they blew by in a sprint. I heard the sound of a car engine turning over and figured the twins must have opened the front gate.
So far, so good. Wolf led us into an adjacent room and immediately fired two suppressed shots from his HK. I stepped over the body of a dead Russian with his AK still on Safe. Muffled sounds came from upstairs, but I couldn’t tell what was going on. I had to believe it was good news.
I entered the hallway and noted two doorways on the left. At the end of the hallway was a large window, illuminated from outside by the high beams of our moving truck. Knowing Wolf was behind me, I followed my gun into the first room. Nothing.
Wolf led us to the next door and held up a hand in theHaltposition.
I saw what he saw: The door was ajar. I squeezed his shoulder and had my suppressor over his right shoulder and into the room way before my body.
The sound of the AK was deafening from two feet away.Egorov’s guy had flattened himself against the wall just inside the door of what appeared to be an office. Unfortunately for him, by the time he recognized the suppressor he had three bullets ripping through his face, neck, and chest, and had collapsed in a heap.
More sounds from upstairs; several loud thuds on the floor. I guessed Oliver was doing okay. Wolf and I moved through the kitchen and finished up in a great room across from where we started.
Wolf spied the door to what looked like either a vault or a bomb shelter, so I stacked right on his hip. He twisted the knob and we prepared to drive our barrels in first, only to find another door—a heavy-duty bastard—six inches deeper. Whether it protected a vault or a safe, we weren’t getting in there without dynamite or a torch.
“Keep an eye on it,” I told Wolf.
“Why,” he deadpanned, “is it going to run away?”
I gave him the finger, then yelled upstairs, “First floor clear!”
“Collecting intelligence, then coming down,” Oliver called from above.
CHAPTER 90
Imade my way to the large window at the front of the house, surprised to find Rudy and a Russian rolling around in the driveway in some kind of grappling match. I trotted out the door and toward the scuffle.
Jimmy T. was trying to get a shot in, but the two combatants were way too close to each other. Every time he tried, either Rudy or the Russian rolled the other one in or out of the way.
This must be the intel officer—the guy we needed alive.“We want this one, Jimmy,” I said as Jimmy lowered his Beretta and gave me aNow what?look.
“Okay, stop this shit. Let him go, Rudy—I saidStop!”
Rudy relaxed his grip and the Russian immediately mounted him in a classic jujitsu position, preparing to take a swing. His problem was that when he wound up for the haymaker, his arm landed perfectly in my grip.
I yanked back hard with my right hand, making the Russian fall backward off Rudy’s chest. He tried to roll out of my grasp, but I let myself fall directly on his back with all my weight.Before he could move, I hopped up and drove my right knee into his rib cage as hard as I could. He cried out in pain as I wrenched his right arm behind his back, twisting his wrist in the opposite direction.
“Something’s gonna break, motherfucker. Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” he wheezed.
“Bullshit! Where is she?” I applied more leverage to his upper arm and less to his wrist. “Your fucking shoulder is about to dislocate, and I will gladly do the other one if you don’t tell me where the fuck she is.”
“Mr. Egorov … plane … talk to you—” was all he could manage through the pain.
