I came up firing.
BANG! BANG!
Two rounds struck the third guard in the chest before he could raise his submachine gun.
He collapsed back through the shattered glass onto the floor.
El cuarto guardia balanceó su cañón hacia mí, pero un disparo sonó desde la puerta principal.
¡BANG!
The fourth guard collapsed as a bullet caught him in the side of the head.
I spun around, weapon raised.
Standing in the doorway, soaked in rain, holding a smoking heavy-caliber revolver, was Rocco.
Behind him stood six of our senior Syndicate lieutenants, their faces hard, their weapons drawn.
“You thought I’d leave you alone with these dogs, Boss?”
Rocco growled through the dust.
“¿Dónde está Mia?”
Exigí.
“Safe in the armored van with Elena and Vivien.
Two miles away.”
I turned my attention back to the center of the shattered foyer.
Adrian se arrastraba desde debajo del borde de la araña caída, sangrando pesadamente por una profunda herida en la frente, su abrigo gris desgarrado y empapado de sangre.
