Chapter 6 - The Iron Net
“Down!” Alexei roared.
In a fraction of a second, his massive body lunged across the shattered bench, tackling Maria to the grass and shielding her entire frame with his broad back.
Crack! Crack!
Two more rounds tore through the rosebushes, chewing through dirt and floral stems inches from where Sophie was sitting.
Sophie didn’t scream. She froze, her eyes wide, staring at the dirt spraying into her face.
“Sophie!” Maria shrieked beneath Alexei’s weight.
Alexei didn't hesitate. Without exposing his chest, he rolled across the damp grass, swept Sophie into his left arm with the ease of a man scooping up a feather, and dragged both mother and child behind the thick marble pedestal of an antique garden fountain.
He reached under his wool overcoat and drew a heavy custom 9mm pistol, racking the slide with a single metallic click.
“Sniper in the tree line,” Alexei muttered into his lapel radio, his voice completely calm, his breathing steady despite the chaos. “West perimeter bluff. Two hundred yards. Bring him in alive if you can. If not, blow the ridge.”
The estate's automated defense sirens shrieked to life. Within forty seconds, four black SUVs tore across the manicured lawn, tires churning up mud, forming a bulletproof steel barrier between the garden fountain and the distant woods.
Dmitri leaped from the passenger seat of the lead vehicle, carrying an assault rifle. “Clear! The nest is compromised! Perimeter team has the bluff boxed in!”
Alexei stood up slowly, lifting Sophie onto his hip. The little girl’s face was smeared with mud, her pink stethoscope hanging loose around her arm. She was trembling, but her tiny fingers were buried tightly into the lapel of Alexei’s wool coat.
“Are you hurt, little doctor?” Alexei asked, inspecting her face with terrifying gentleness.
Sophie sniffled, touching a tiny scratch on Alexei’s cheek where a shard of flying limestone had cut his skin. “You’re bleeding, Mr. Alexei. You need a band-aid.”
A dark, feral look flashed through Alexei’s eyes—the look of an ancient predator whose den had just been violated.
“I will not need a band-aid,” Alexei said quietly, his voice vibrating with lethal intent. “The man who fired that rifle will need a funeral.”
Twenty minutes later, in the soundproof basement beneath the garages, the truth came out.
The shooter had been taken alive—a Serbian mercenary hired by Sal Bertinelli’s private front company in New Jersey. But the man hadn't just been tracking Alexei. In his tactical backpack, Dmitri found high-resolution surveillance photos of Maria walking to the local grocery store, and photos of Sophie playing on the swings in Lake Forest Park.
On the back of Sophie’s photo, a handwritten note in red ink read:
“Kill the wolf’s pet, and the wolf will bleed.”
Dmitri tossed the photos onto the stainless steel table before Alexei. “They aren't just targeting the business anymore, boss. They know she’s your soft spot. They know the child is your heart.”
Alexei looked down at the photograph of Sophie smiling with ice cream on her nose.
May you like
His face was an emotionless mask of marble.
“Call the New York families,” Alexei ordered, his tone devoid of human mercy. “Tell them the Petrov syndicate is coming East. And tell Sal Bertinelli... that there are no doctors in hell.”
