Chapter 8 - The Shadow Garden
The sub-level tunnel opened into the dense, rain-soaked foliage of the estate's private glasshouse gardens.
The storm was howling overhead, thunder cracking across the night sky, masking the sound of footsteps and distant gunfire. Smoke drifted through the trees near the main driveway, illuminated by the flashing lights of burning security vehicles.
Voss led the way, moving like a shadow through the wet ferns, his gun held low. I followed right behind him, holding Bishop's tactical lead short.
Suddenly, Bishop dropped low to the ground, his body going completely rigid. He let out a low, breathy huff—his trained silent alert.
I instantly reached out, grabbing the back of Voss's tactical vest, pulling him down into the shadows of a large marble fountain.
Two seconds later, three men in dark tactical gear carrying suppressed submachine guns stepped out from behind the glasshouse wall, sweeping the patio with weapon-mounted flashlights.
"Rener's radio went dark," one of the mercenaries whispered in a thick accent. "Clear the glasshouse. Find Voss and take the girl."
Voss leaned close to my ear, his breath warm against my rain-slicked skin. "Three hostiles. Twenty yards. I take the left two."
"Bishop takes the right," I whispered back.
Voss looked at the dog, then nodded once.
"Go," I whispered, unclipping Bishop's lead.
Bishop launched forward like a black bullet through the dark rain, silent and lethal. He struck the mercenary on the right before the man could even raise his weapon, taking him down into the wet gravel with seventy pounds of unstoppable force. The man screamed as Bishop locked onto his tactical vest arm, dragging him to the ground.
BANG! BANG!
Voss popped up from behind the marble fountain, firing two precise rounds into the remaining two mercenaries. Both men dropped instantly into the garden beds.
The third mercenary scrambled on the ground, trying to draw his sidearm while fighting off Bishop, but I ran forward, picking up a heavy stone garden statue from the fountain ledge, and slammed it down onto the man's wrist.
The gun flew into the wet grass.
Bishop stood over the coughing man, a fierce growl vibrating in his chest, waiting for my command.
"Hold!" I yelled.
Bishop instantly froze, keeping his jaws inches from the man's throat, holding him pinned to the earth.
Voss stepped up beside me, his weapon lowered, looking at the captured mercenary, then back at me standing in the pouring rain with wet hair plastered to my face and a stone statue in my hands.
He let out a short, breathless laugh.
"Note to self," Voss murmured, his eyes glowing with fierce pride. "Never get on the wrong side of Ren Callaway."
"He's secured," I panted, wiping rain from my eyes.
Voss grabbed the mercenary by his collar, dragging him up against the fountain edge. "Who sent you?"
The mercenary spat blood onto the gravel. "Go to hell, Voss."
Voss didn't argue. He pressed the hot barrel of his gun against the man's knee. "I'll ask once more. Who paid for the breach?"
"Moretti!" the man gasped, buckling in pain. "Frank Moretti out of Philly! He... he bought Rener six months ago! The whole board is taking over the port contracts tonight!"
Voss's eyes went icy cold. "Thank you for your cooperation."
He knocked the man out cold with the butt of his pistol, letting him slump into the wet grass.
Voss turned to me, grabbing my waist and pulling me close against his chest to protect me from the driving wind.
"It's over," Voss said softly, his dark hazel eyes locked onto mine. "Dominic's units have cleared the front gate. The breach is contained."
I leaned against him, feeling the steady, powerful rhythm of his heartbeat beneath his soaked shirt.
May you like
"We made it," I whispered.
"No, Ren," Voss murmured, leaning down until his forehead rested against mine in the dark, rain-soaked garden. "You saved us. Again."
