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“Still could be,” Liam admitted. “If the basement blocks RFID and GPS, it might block infrared.”
I shrugged. “I’ll risk it.”
And that was when hellfire rained down.
Maksim and Leon had planted C4 along the outer banks of the house. Nothing structural. It was just enough to shake the mansion and maybe knock a few bricks loose. The walls shook, glass shattering, and shouts from inside of the house grew louder.
I surged forward, taking out the first guard who came toward the shattered sliding glass door with ease.
Then another explosion. This one was closer to the front of the house. We didn’t slow our pace as we cleared a path through the back of the house toward the basement door that was just off the servants’ quarters. We didn’t have a lot of time before the enemy’s reinforcements arrived or the building collapsed beneath the strain of the explosions.
I took out my Beretta. Subtly wasn’t necessary any longer. They knew we were here to take back what was ours. A bullet whizzed past my head, missing me by mere centimeters, burying itself in the pillar behind me. A flash of ginger hair caught my eye.
He’d come out of the basement.
“What a way to meet,” the man yelled. His Irish accent was rough, more pronounced than any of the Kavanaughs. He’d grown up on the island. “I’m a huge fan of your wife, Mr. Dashkov.”
I growled, my chest rumbling with the depth of the vibration. “You’re about to be a dead fan, stranger.”
The man had the gall to laugh.
“That isn’t how my story ends, I’m afraid.” Another bullet left his chamber. I didn’t bother to fire back. He was too well hidden, and it was a waste of ammo. “But I was so glad to get a taste of that sweet Irish homeland while I was here. I can see why you married her.”
“Come out here and face us, yousap,” Liam roared from my side. “I’ll give you a taste of the homeland myself.”
“Is that the famous Liam Kavanaugh?” the man crowed. “Oh, wait until I tell the boys back home all about this. They’ll be singing my name down at the pub.”
“Can’t sing if you’re dead, mate,” he hollered.
The man laughed again. “One day, Kavanaugh,” he hollered back. “Until then, though, I’ll tell you this: Noah Kelly sends his regards.”
Liam tensed next to me. Whoever this Kelly man was, he wasn’t a friend of his. Another explosion rocked the mansion. This one wasn’t ours.
I could hear the man’s retreating footsteps on the wooden floor.
He was gone.
But that didn’t matter.
The only thing that mattered was getting to my wife.
“Let’s go.” I inclined my head at the open door the man had entered from.
Slowly, we descended the steps into the basement and into the dimly lit corridor. We followed the dark hallway deeper into the house, our eyes alert. Most of the doors were open. Some hung off their hinges. Damage that hadn’t been caused by the explosions. The air was damp and smelled of mildew. The rough, concrete walls closed in the space surrounding us, swallowing the dim lights that swung from above.
The sound of shuffling feet stopped me cold.
I held up my fist to stop the others. Pointing at my ear to convey that I’d heard a sound, I peeked around the corner where the hallway diverged into a sharp turn that led into a larger room. Another sound. This time, it was the sound of a rifle bolt.
More shuffling of feet, but it was just one pair.
Turning back to the others, I signaled my findings.
One man.
Large room.
On my mark.
