Page 15 of Oath of Protection (Blood Oath Bargains #1)

FIFTEEN

ENDGAME

[NICO]

Midnight brought fog rolling in from the harbor, thick enough to muffle sound and blur the compound's security lights into halos of useless illumination.

Nico crouched behind the stone fountain in the main courtyard, radio earpiece crackling with updates from teams positioned throughout the grounds.

"Alpha Team in position," his voice steady despite the circumstances. "East perimeter clear."

"Bravo Team ready," came another voice. "Service road secured."

"Charlie Team standing by." That was him, somewhere in the darkness beyond the main house, leading the team that would intercept Tony if he tried to run. The plan required them to split up—Nico coordinating the compound's defense while he handled the family's internal threat.

Trusting each other from a distance. The hardest thing they'd ever done.

"Movement on the north approach," someone whispered through the comm. "Three vehicles, no lights."

"Copy that." Nico checked his weapon one more time, muscle memory from years of preparation he'd hoped never to use. "All teams, this is Control. They're coming. Execute on my signal."

The Kozlovs had taken the bait. False intelligence planted in Tony's cell had convinced them the family would be gathered in the main house's dining room for an emergency meeting. Instead, they'd find empty rooms and carefully positioned defenders who knew exactly where the attackers would go.

Engines cut out somewhere beyond the compound walls. Car doors slammed with muffled thuds that carried through the fog. Boots on gravel, moving with military precision toward entry points that had been left deliberately vulnerable.

"Contact, main gate," crackled through his earpiece. "Six hostiles, automatic weapons."

"Let them through," Nico ordered. "Funnel them toward the house."

His heart hammered against his ribs as armed figures materialized from the fog like ghosts.

They moved in formation, weapons ready, believing they had the element of surprise.

One team splitting off toward the east wing, another approaching the main entrance, a third circling toward the service areas where the family's business offices were located.

"Now," Nico whispered into his radio.

The compound erupted.

Muzzle flashes sparked from windows and doorways as Valente soldiers opened fire from concealed positions. The attackers found themselves caught in crossfire, their intelligence useless against defenses that had been completely reorganized.

"Alpha Team engaging," Matt reported. "Four hostiles down."

Nico moved through the chaos, leading his team toward the main house where the heaviest fighting had erupted. Through the fog and gunfire, he could see figures moving through the ground floor rooms, searching for targets that weren't there.

A burst of automatic fire shattered the fountain's marble edge, sending stone chips flying. Nico rolled left, coming up behind a pillar as bullets sparked off decorative ironwork.

"Control, this is Bravo," a voice shouted over the sound of combat. "We've got them pinned in the east wing. Need backup to finish this."

"On our way." Nico gestured to his team—three men who'd been with the family for over a decade, who knew these grounds like their own homes. "Move."

They advanced through the formal gardens, using hedges and sculptures for cover. The fog that had hidden the attackers now worked against them, limiting visibility to maybe twenty feet in any direction.

"Nico." His voice in his ear, tight with concern. "I've got visual on Tony. He's not in his cell."

Ice flooded Nico's veins. "What?"

"The guards are down. Cell's empty. He's loose somewhere in the compound."

[Cam]

The service tunnels beneath the compound were a maze of pipes and electrical conduits that most people forgot existed. Cam moved through them with night vision goggles, following the route Tony would have to take if he wanted to reach the family's emergency communications center.

Above him, the battle raged. Gunfire, shouting, the crash of breaking glass as windows were shot out. But down here, the only sounds were his breathing and the distant rumble of the compound's generators.

Tony had to be stopped before he could contact the Kozlovs with real-time intelligence about the family's defensive positions. Or worse—before he could activate the compound's security systems to trap everyone inside while the attackers finished them off.

"Charlie Team, report," Cam whispered into his throat mic.

"Perimeter's secure," came the reply. "No movement on the service road."

"Copy. Maintain positions."

A door slammed somewhere ahead of him, the sound carrying through the tunnel system. Cam picked up his pace, weapon ready, following the maintenance passages toward the communications center that Tony would need to reach.

Emergency lighting cast everything in red shadows, making the tunnels feel like the inside of a beating heart. His boots splashed through puddles of condensation as he navigated by memory and instinct.

Another sound—footsteps, moving fast, heading in the same direction he was.

Cam reached the access ladder that led up to the communications center just as the metal door above him swung open. Light spilled down the shaft, followed by Tony's voice.

"Dmitri, this is Raven. The defensive positions have been changed. I repeat, defensive positions have been changed."

He went up the ladder fast, taking the rungs three at a time. Tony was at the radio console, his back turned, completely focused on betraying his family one last time.

"Tony."

He spun around, his face cycling through surprise, calculation, and resignation. "I wondered when you'd show up."

"Step away from the radio."

"Or what? You'll shoot me?" Tony's smile was sharp, dangerous. "You won't. You're too much like Nico—too soft when it matters."

"You don't know me very well."

"I know you well enough." Tony moved away from the console, but his hand stayed near the pistol on his belt. "You think you're protecting him, but you're just enabling his weakness. When this is over?—"

"When this is over, you'll be gone."

"Will I?" Tony's hand moved toward his weapon. "Or will you?"

[Nico]

The east wing had turned into a war zone. Bullets punched through walls and shattered artwork that had hung in the Valente house for three generations. Nico low-crawled through the formal dining room, broken glass cutting through his jacket as he tried to reach the stairs.

"Bravo Team, status?"

"Two hostiles down, one barricaded in the library. He's got automatic weapons and a clear field of fire."

"Copy. We're moving to flank."

But as Nico reached the base of the main staircase, he heard something that made his blood freeze—Cam's voice over the radio, tight with controlled violence.

"Control, this is Charlie Lead. I have Tony. Situation contained."

Relief hit him, then vanished as a figure appeared at the top of the stairs—one of the Kozlov attackers, weapon raised, looking for targets.

Their eyes met across twenty feet of bullet-torn space.

The gunman's rifle swung toward him. Nico dove sideways, but he was caught in the open, nowhere to hide, nowhere to run.

The gunman's finger moved toward the trigger. Nico was trapped with nowhere to go.

Then the window behind the gunman exploded inward.

He crashed through the glass in an explosion of movement, tackling the shooter before he could fire. They hit the floor hard, wrestling for control of the weapon as Nico scrambled for cover.

"How—" Nico started.

"Climbed the outside wall." His voice was strained as he fought for the rifle. "Couldn't let him get a clear shot."

The gunman was bigger than him, with the desperate strength of someone who knew he was going to die. But he had training, technique, and the absolute certainty that failure meant losing the most important thing in his life.

The rifle went off, a burst of automatic fire that stitched holes across the ceiling. Plaster rained down as the two men rolled across the floor, neither giving ground.

Nico raised his weapon, trying to get a clear shot, but they were moving too fast, locked together in a fight that could only end one way.

He got his hands on the rifle's barrel, twisting it away from Nico's position just as the gunman's finger found the trigger again. The muzzle flash lit up the hallway as bullets punched through the opposite wall.

Then he had the weapon, rolling away and coming up with the rifle trained on the Kozlov soldier. The man reached for a sidearm, but his shot took him center mass before he could draw.

"You okay?" Cam asked, breathing hard.

"Yeah. Tony?"

"Contained. Permanently."

[Cam]

The battle was winding down. Scattered gunfire from the grounds, but the coordinated assault had been broken. The Kozlovs had lost their leadership, their inside intelligence, and most of their assault team to defenders who'd been ready for them.

He stood in the communications center, looking down at Tony's body. The man had drawn his weapon, forced the choice between killing and being killed. He had made the only decision possible.

"Charlie Lead, this is Control." Nico's voice in his earpiece. "All teams report status."

"Main house secured," came Matt's voice. "Four hostiles down, remainder in retreat."

"East perimeter clear."

"Service road secured."

"Charlie Lead," Nico said. "Status on our internal problem?"

He looked at Tony one more time—the man who'd been willing to destroy his own family for power, who'd nearly gotten Nico killed multiple times, who'd forced this final confrontation.

"Problem solved," he said. "Permanently."

Silence on the radio for a moment. Then Nico's voice, steady and controlled: "Copy that. All teams, begin cleanup. We've got work to do."

[Nico]

Dawn found them in the compound's main courtyard, surveying the damage. Bullet holes in marble facades, shattered windows, blood on stone that would need to be scrubbed away before Sofia saw it. The price of victory was always higher than anyone wanted to pay.

"Kozlov casualties?" Nico asked.

"Twelve KIA, three wounded and captured," Matt reported. "Their leadership is gone. Dmitri Volkov took two to the chest during the east wing engagement."

"Our people?"

"Three wounded, all stable. Could have been much worse."

It could have been much worse. Without Cam's planning, without the coordinated defense, without the intelligence that had let them turn the Kozlovs' own strategy against them, this could have been a massacre.

"What about the survivors?" Cam asked. "The wounded ones?"

"They'll recover. Then they'll disappear." Nico's voice was matter-of-fact. "After they've had time to spread the word about what happens when you come after the Valente family."

"And Tony?"

"Tony died defending the compound against foreign attackers." Nico looked at the blood-stained stones, the shattered fountain, the evidence of a battle that would become family legend. "That's the story. That's what goes in the records."

Cam studied his face. "You okay with that?"

"He was my brother. He was also a traitor." Nico met his eyes. "I'm okay with remembering the brother and burying the traitor. Some truths don't need to be spoken."

Dawn light crept across the compound, turning bloodstains on marble into dark shadows that would need scrubbing before Sofia saw them. Nico surveyed the damage—shattered fountain, bullet holes in the facade, windows that would need replacing. The price of victory always looked uglier in daylight.

"Christ," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Ma's going to lose her mind when she sees this mess."

Cam almost smiled. "We'll blame it on the landscaping crew."

"Right. Because landscaping crews use assault rifles."

They stood there as the compound slowly came back to life around them—soldiers securing weapons, medical teams treating the wounded, cleanup crews already mobilizing to erase the evidence. The machine of the Valente organization functioning exactly as it should.

Nico felt something ease in his chest that had been tight for months. Not relief, exactly. More like recognition that they were still here, still breathing, still figuring out how to do this impossible thing together.

"Next time the Kozlovs want to negotiate," he said, "we're charging them for window replacement."

"Next time," Cam agreed. "But there won't be a next time."

"No. There won't."