Page 130 of Savage Enemy

As planned, four men entered the cabin with Bruce taking point. The rooms inside were too small to clear with any more men. We would end up in each other’s way, and the last thing I wanted was for my soldiers to shoot one of their own.

The remaining five of us crouched near the hedges, using the shadows to our advantage. Within seconds after the others entered the cabin, shots fired. My crew held our position.

My men exited the cabin and gave an all-clear signal.

We surrounded the house.

Bruce’s crew split off to breach the front door. With all eyes on the front of the house, the rest of us would enter through the back. They wouldn’t expect it, and that gave us a distinct advantage.

Divide and conquer.

There were only nine of us, and we needed to make it seem like there were a lot more men invading the property.

My crew took the back and got into position under the windows near two entry doors. I counted down the seconds, waiting for Bruce to lock it in before I moved inside.

Shots rang out from the front of the house. I held up my hand, stopping the men from reflexively rushing in too soon.

Twenty seconds later, shouting started, and I gave the signal to move, then my strongest soldier kicked in the back door.

Two young men were in a four seasons room, scrambling to arm themselves before heading toward all the commotion.

Their actions seemed disorganized and shaky. Not soldiers. Untrained boys in their twenties. Based on the pile of coke on the tabletop, the rolled-up hundreds, and their expensive clothing, I guessed they were sons of mafia leaders or politicians.

“They’re that way. Move your asses,” one of them snapped and pointed, believing we were Moscatelli men.

We killed them with clean shots to the heads before moving in tandem with my men into the house. Their fathers should have taught them better. My son would never get caught in a situation like this one, and I would make damn sure of it.

We marched through the first level, clearing rooms.

When we entered a grand dining room with a circular marble staircase, several of Moscatelli’s men filed down in our direction. All were armed to the teeth, wearing protective vests.

In an instant, we went from clearing unobstructed rooms to being surrounded with bullets flying.

My men and I scattered, finding cover wherever we could while returning fire. I heard a few barked swears, which meant one or two men took hits but not fatally.

We gave back just as well.

Someone had clearly tipped off Moscatelli. He seemed to anticipate our arrival, happy to sacrifice the guards in the cabin to get us inside to face his hidden squad of soldiers.

Did that son of a bitch Edgardo Lordi call Saul Moscatelli? It wouldn’t have surprised me. Or maybe Angelo Medico did it. They were the only men outside of my organization aware of my plans.

Fuck. It could have been Marco. He’d let me know the Russians were coming to take my girl in the morning. Maybe hecounted on me coming for her. Maybe he never cared about her or wanted to do business and had laid a trap instead.

It didn’t matter. Not at this point.

Once again, I’d been underestimated.

They seemed to think they owned the element of surprise, but Tony and I had trained my lieutenants and soldiers to expect such surprises. We came to fight. We didn’t expect to walk out the door with the girl and a polite wave goodbye.

I didn’t see the Moscatelli family themselves, the pussies.

According to Tony’s intel, Val should’ve been upstairs, beyond the firing squad, behind the last door on the right.

The tight, circular build of the staircase made it difficult to fire up at the men coming down. They had the higher ground. But it also made it harder for them to take aim at us, and we had more cover down below than they did on the stairs.

A scream pierced the air. Her scream.

It didn’t come from the second floor. It came from behind me. My blood iced over. She wasn’t upstairs.

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