Chapter 7 - THE SIEGE OF THE PENTAGRAM
-7
The bedroom was instantly transformed into a war zone. Plaster dust choked the air, mixing with the sharp, acrid smell of cordite and burning wood. Through the shredded remains of the windows, the red glare of tracer rounds streaked across the courtyard below, illuminating the silhouettes of masked men in tactical black gear storming the lower terraces.
I pressed myself flat against the hardwood floor behind the massive wooden bed frame, cradling little Leo tightly against my chest. The baby was screaming now, a frantic, terrified shriek that pierced my soul. I buried his face against my neck, whispering desperate, broken prayers that my mother had never taught me how to pray.
Clack.
The sound of footsteps sprinting down the hallway outside our suite made my blood run cold.
"Clear the third floor!" a harsh, mechanical voice barked from the corridor, distorted by a tactical radio. "The target is the girl and the child! Secure the Alighieri bloodline for the Vanguard council!"
My hands shook so violently I nearly dropped the tactical pistol Dante had forced into my grip. I remembered his words—pull the trigger until the slide locks back—and forced my finger to loop around the cold steel trigger. My heart was hammering so hard against my ribs I was certain they could hear it through the walls.
The heavy oak door of our suite didn't just open; it exploded inward in a shower of splintered wood and flying metal. The deadbolt lock sheared completely off as a heavy breach charge detonated against the frame.
Through the billowing gray smoke, two figures in black tactical gear stepped into the room, their assault rifles raised, sweeping the corners with military precision.
"Target spotted!" the lead operative yelled, spotting the bed where I cowered.
Instinct overrode my paralyzing fear. I raised the pistol with both trembling hands, closed my eyes, and pulled the trigger.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The deafening roar of the handgun inside the enclosed room felt like a physical blow. The recoil slammed back into my wrists, nearly knocking the weapon from my grip. When I opened my eyes through the smoke, the lead operative was stumbling backward, dropping his rifle as he clutched his shoulder, howling in pain through his tactical balaclava.
The second operative instantly pivoted his weapon toward me, roaring in fury. "You little bitch—"
Before he could pull his trigger, a heavy shadow dropped from the shattered balcony overhead with the silent, lethal grace of a panther.
It was Dante.
Before the tactical operative could adjust his aim, Dante slammed the heavy metal butt of his Beretta directly into the man's temple with skull-cracking force. The operative collapsed instantly onto the floor, unconscious and bleeding profusely.
Dante didn't pause for a breath. He spun around, his eyes blazing with feral rage, and fired two precise shots down the hallway, neutralizing another attacker who was rushing to reinforce the breach.
"Are you hit?" Dante demanded, dropping to one knee beside the bed, his hands scanning my body with frantic urgency.
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"No!" I sobbed, gasping for air through the smoke. "I'm okay! Leo's okay!"
Dante let out a ragged breath, pulling us both into a fierce, suffocating embrace before hauling me to my feet. "We have to move. The safehouse panic room is through the master bathroom. Move, Mara! Now!"
