Chapter 11 - Fire in the Night
At exactly midnight, the horizon lit up. A rocket-propelled grenade slammed into the front gates, blowing the heavy iron doors completely off their hinges. Dimitri Volkov hadn't bluffed. He had brought an army.
Dozens of heavily armed mercenaries flooded through the smoke, firing indiscriminately. Silas's men returned fire with devastating efficiency, the night air tearing apart with the deafening roar of automatic weapons. Tracers lit up the darkness like deadly fireflies, illuminating the falling snow.
Silas was in his element. Moving from cover to cover, he directed his men with ruthless precision, catching the Russian forces in deadly crossfires. The courtyard became a slaughterhouse, the pristine snow quickly turning red.
But the Volkov cartel had superior numbers. They pushed forward relentlessly, taking heavy losses but inching closer to the main house. A second explosion rocked the eastern wing, blowing a massive hole in the mansion's reinforced wall.
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"They breached the east wing!" a guard screamed over the radio before the channel went dead.
Silas's heart dropped. The east wing was directly beneath the master bedroom. They were going for Elara.
