My blood runs cold.
More voices. Overlapping. Urgent.
"South perimeter is collapsing!"
"Three men down on the east wall!"
"Boss is down! I repeat, boss is DOWN!"
No.
No, no, no.
"Patrick's got a gun on him! Someone get to the foyer NOW!"
I'm moving before conscious thought catches up. Grabbing the emergency gun from the weapons locker. Checking the magazine with hands that won't stop shaking.
"Valerie?" Mila's voice is small. Terrified. "What are you doing?"
"Your papa needs help." I kneel beside her. Cup her face. "I need you to stay here. Lock the door behind me. Don't open it for anyone except me, your papa, or Mikhail. Understand?"
"Don't leave!" She grabs my shirt. "Please don't leave me!"
"I have to." I kiss her forehead. "I have to save your papa. But I promise, I'll come back. I promise, baby."
"You promised you wouldn't leave like Mama did!"
The words break me. "I'm not leaving. I'm fighting. Now lock this door. Don't open it for anyone."
I pry her hands away. Stand and move to the door.
"Valerie!" She's sobbing. "VALERIE!"
I step through. The heavy steel door closes behind me with a final-sounding clang.
I hear the locks engage. Mila's cry follows me, ringing in my ears as I run.
The basement corridor is empty. Eerily quiet compared to the chaos I heard over the radio. I take the stairs two at a time, gun raised, heart hammering.
The main floor is a warzone.
Smoke so thick I can barely see. The acrid smell of gunpowder and blood. Bodies on the floor—some in Lev's colors, some in tactical black.
Glass crunches under my feet. Furniture overturned. Walls pockmarked with bullet holes.
I move toward the foyer. Following the sound of voices. Of struggle.
Through the smoke, I see them.
Lev is on the ground. Blood pooling beneath him. His face is pale, and his breathing is labored.
Patrick standing over him. Gun pointed at Lev's head. Smiling.
"Five years I've waited for this." Patrick's voice carries through the smoke. "Five years of planning. Of rebuilding. Of imagining this exact moment."
"Fuck you." Lev coughs. Blood on his lips. "You came after my family. You deserve worse than death."
"Your family?" Patrick laughs. "The ones long dead or the ones that I’ll be killing tonight?"