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Then, Lyon thought he could make out a faint light up ahead. He wondered if he was imagining it until Alek spoke.
“We’re almost there.”
The tunnel gradually lightened, although the illumination was dim. All at once, a barrage of gunfire sounded from up ahead. It went on and on, followed by shouts that got louder as the light got brighter.
“They have Sergei isolated with three men,” Alek said, reporting from what he was hearing in his earpiece. “They’re working on the steel door.”
The blood rushed in Lyon’s head, adrenaline giving him a welcome surge of strength, the promise of killing Sergei Ivanov delivering a familiar rush of anticipation.
He’d worked to rebuild his image, to show people a side that wasn’t all blood and violence, but this return to his more primal self wasn’t unwelcome. He would happily kill these men who had made him suffer, who had made Kira suffer.
They slowed down as they reached the opening of the tunnel, not wanting to barrel into a bad situation. A couple pops ofgunfire were followed by the muffled shots of the silenced weapons, and the clang of metal reverberated over them and down the tunnel.
Alek and Markus flanked the entrance to the tunnel, then moved simultaneously through the wide opening leading to the crib with Lyon on their heels.
Luka was holding his own with a tall, meaty man with sledgehammers for fists, but young Stefan was struggling with a tall lanky guard who was using a piece of metal pipe to choke the life out of him.
Alek rushed over to Luka.
Lyon lifted his weapon and aimed at the man choking Stefan. “I got this.”
He aimed at the back of the man’s head, silently apologizing for the face full of blood Stefan was about to get.
The man went down fast, leaving Stefan standing with his eyes wide, face dripping scarlet.
“You’re good,” Lyon said. “Come with us.”
It took a second for the kid to move, but then he stepped over the body of his attacker and hurried to join Lyon and Markus.
“You okay?” Lyon asked him. “Still got your weapon?”
“It uh… it fell to the floor,” Stefan said.
Alek fired on the man fighting Luka, and he hit the concrete floor with a dull thud.
“Get your gun,” Markus said to Stefan. “We have to move.”
He looked at Lyon while Stefan scrambled to find his gun on the floor where it had fallen. “They have him.”
“Vadim?” Lyon said.
“Sergei,” Markus said. “Vadim is holed up in the control room. Door has a lock like a safe. Has to be opened from the inside or with a key.”
“Sergei will do,” Lyon said. “Lead the way.”
They were in a massive circular pit constructed of cinderblock and concrete — the holding tank, Lyon knew from the schematics they’d studied in preparation for their attack — and Markus led the way up a set of metal stairs to a platform that circled the pit.
Lyon followed with Stefan at his side, Alek in the back this time.
Markus moved with assurance, like he knew exactly where he was going, and Lyon realized again what an asset the man had been since Lyon had moved him up through the ranks.
Other than Alek and Rurik, there was no one Lyon would rather have at his side.
Six sets of doors provided exits from the holding tank. Markus led them through one set and they entered a concrete hall manned with Lyon’s own men.
“You cleared this level?” Markus asked one of the younger men. Lyon thought his name was George.
He nodded, stiffening when he saw Lyon, awe shadowing his features.
