Page 89 of Iron Crown

“Sure is,” Blink yelled, with a friendly wave. “Doing some demolition before we start building. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, sure do,” the old man laughed. “Sounds like fun. Ya’ll have a nice day.”

Then he drove off.

Chapter twenty-nine

Shits and Fans

Eoghan

Cosima was a fucking idiot. I don’t know how else to say it. As intelligent and brilliant as she might be, I realized that at this moment, she was an absolute fucking nightmare. We had taken out all of her guards, as planned, and our demolition experts were taking apart landmines, while the rest of us provided security, sniping anyone who tried to take them out.

When that was done, we’d marked the path, as planned, entered the gates, and started to fight our way in.

But the landmines, which we assumed were on theoutside, didn’t seem to stop at the compound perimeter.

No, she’d boobytrapped the inside of her house as well.

O’Malley was to my right, his rifle up, his team coming in behind him, ready to enter a room when the door completely exploded in his face, knocking him off of his feet. He was thrown six feet into the air, his body splayed on the ground.

“Fuck!” I said, “O’Malley!”

“I’m fine!” he groaned, his body shifting side to side like he was a turtle, upside down on its shell. “Gotta catch my wind.”

“For fuck’s sake, stay down, lad,” I said, “You probably got your bell rung. Stay down, and cover us from the rear.”

“I’m good,” he said, and I yelled at him to follow his fucking orders.

Damn gung-ho, hard-charging, eager motherfuckers. He needed to sit for a moment or two, at least.

I peered into the doorway, seeing the grand dining room. The walls were painted a Tuscan orange, and ivy crawled up the walls, decorating the frames of the windows. The tabletop was a brightly colored mosaic, harkening to a summer Italian villa.

I kept my gun sweeping from left to right, my eyes following the targets. I felt a bullet whizz by my head. One of my team fired, and whoever the shooter was went down. Then a barrage of gunfire went overhead, I ducked down behind the nearest table, and I felt the screams of men who were shot.

I fired, and two guards went down. I assumed they were guards, though they wore business suits. The guns in their hands told me they weren’t there to hash out a contract.

The wood in front of me splintered, and I felt the sting of something on my cheek.

I didn’t have time to inspect it, as pain seared into my face.

If I could move, and I could think, then I could still fight.

“Who’s down?” I asked.

“Three down,” Flanagan said. I was relieved to hear her voice. “Murphy, stay back and treat them, yeah?”

Murphy answered in the affirmative.

I looked to her for a split second, just long enough to see her nod at me, letting me know she was ready to go on.

In my ear, I heard Jericho say that they had gotten the exterior perimeter secured and were coming in from the other side of the house, clearing their way through the garage, the kitchen, and into the front foyer.

“Push through!” I yelled, as I led the way down the narrow corridor that I knew would lead to the interior office.

Eugenio Durante’s office.

“Tell us when you’re at the office door,” Yuliya said into my ear again. “Our spy on the inside said they’ve closed a secure metal door that's locked from the inside. Bulletproof. We’re working on how to open it now.”