Chapter 4 - The Midnight Breach
The tactical breach of the Bedford safehouse was executed with a precision that could only have come from military-grade intelligence. The two high-output floodlights near the hemlock wall were severed simultaneously, plunging the exterior of the house into absolute darkness before three flashbang grenades shattered the glass of the kitchen windows.
Logan was up the stairs before the third explosion completed its echo. His weapon was out, his body low against the wainscoting of the hallway as the sound of automatic gunfire ripped through the first-floor living room.
"Marcus! The rear perimeter!" Logan shouted over the din of the assault.
He threw his shoulder against the door of the girls’ bedroom, bursting inside just as a dark, heavily armored figure cleared the window frame from the exterior fire escape. The assassin wore a black tactical mask, a silenced submachine gun raised toward the bed where Nova and Luna were huddled together beneath the mattress.
Logan didn't hesitate. He fired three rounds in rapid succession—the heavy 9mm hollow-points catching the intruder in the throat and upper chest, throwing his body back out over the windowsill into the rain-slicked night.
"Nova! Luna! With me!" Logan roared, his large hand reaching down into the darkness of the bed to pull both girls into his arms at once. He didn't wait for them to find their shoes; he wrapped them in the thick down comforter and carried them out into the hallway as a second team of attackers cleared the stairs.
"Gianni!" Logan called out into the dark, smoke-filled corridor, his voice a freezing current that seemed to cut through the sound of the gunfire below. "You come into my house with these dogs? You think my uncle’s money is going to protect you when I tear your spine out through your throat?"
A low, cruel laugh answered him from the darkness at the end of the hall. "Vincent says hello, Logan. He says he should have drowned you with your sister eight years ago."
Marcus appeared at the top of the service stairs, his automatic rifle spitting fire into the darkness behind Gianni’s entry team. "Boss! The basement line is clear! The secondary tunnel to the drainage culvert is open!"
"Go!" Logan shouted, pushing Nova and Luna into Marcus’s arms before turning back to face the corridor. He emptied his remaining magazine down the hallway, the muzzle flashes illuminating Gianni’s pale, scarred face for a fraction of a second before the Sicilian dropped behind the iron reinforced door of the linen closet.
Logan dropped the empty magazine, sliding a fresh one into the grip of his Glock with a practiced, mechanical snap as he backed down the service stairs. The air was thick with the scent of burning insulation and blood. They had lost the safehouse, but as Logan reached the dark concrete floor of the drainage tunnel, his eyes found the two girls clinging to Marcus’s neck.
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They were alive. Their gray-green eyes were wide with terror, but they were unbroken.
"We’re going to the refinery, Marcus," Logan whispered, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he closed the iron security door of the tunnel behind them, locking it with a heavy deadbolt. "The war isn't coming anymore. It’s here."
