Chapter 282: Hell Broke Loose

"Understood," came the response from the northern position.

The speedboat continued toward shore, slowing as it approached the beach. Dimitri watched on the monitor as the seven men began to disembark, professional movements, weapons at the ready, tactical formation maintained.

They looked competent. They looked trained. They looked dangerous.

And they looked like they were about to die.

"Wait," Marco said, his voice steady. The men moved up the beach, disappearing from the monitor’s view as they moved into the villa’s approach zone. "Wait... Now."

All hell broke loose.

***

The northern team opened fire from the high ground overlooking the beach. The sound of gunfire shattered the silence....sharp, controlled bursts that were meant to eliminate threats, not to miss.

One of Dante’s men went down immediately, his body hitting the sand.

The other six scattered, returning fire, moving toward the villa for cover.

"Southern team," Marco said, "they’re coming your way. Engage as planned."

Dimitri watched the monitors as the scene unfolded. The second team of Dante’s men....the ones who’d managed to survive the initial volley...were now moving toward the villa’s southern entrance.

They didn’t see the southern team waiting for them until it was too late.

Another burst of gunfire. Another went man down.

Five left.

The remaining five men were moving toward the villa now, trying to use the building for cover.

But what they didn’t know was that they were walking into a prepared position where every angle had been calculated and every exit had been covered.

"I’m moving," Dimitri said into his radio.

"Acknowledged," Marco replied. "Eastern team, watch for secondary approaches."

Dimitri left the safe house’s secure interior and moved toward the villa through a tunneled passage that Marco had prepared weeks ago. The passage was dark, but Dimitri had memorized it. His hands knew the way even without light.

He emerged inside the villa’s basement just as he heard footsteps on the floor above.

The five remaining men were moving through the house, clearing rooms, calling out in Italian.

Dimitri moved silently up the basement stairs, his weapon ready.

He reached the ground floor and waited.

One of the men came around the corner into the hallway where Dimitri was standing.

For a moment, they just looked at each other. The man’s eyes widened in surprise, he’d expected to find a hiding target, not a man waiting calmly with a gun pointed at his face.

"Ciao," Dimitri said, and pulled the trigger.

The man dropped.

The other four heard the shot and moved toward the sound. Dimitri heard their footsteps, heard their shouts, heard them trying to coordinate in the face of unexpected resistance.

But they were panicking now. They’d lost the initiative. They’d lost the surprise.

And most importantly, they’d lost the upper hand.

Two of them came around the corner together, weapons raised.

Dimitri was faster.

He moved to the side, his own weapon already firing. The first man took a bullet in the chest. The second man tried to adjust his aim, but Dimitri was already moving again, firing twice more.

The second man went down.

Three left.

"Boss, we’ve got two more at the secondary entrance," Marco’s voice came through the earpiece. "We’re moving to intercept."

"I have the interior," Dimitri said. "Let me finish this."

He moved through the villa like he owned it, which technically he did. The remaining three men were trying to organize, trying to figure out what had gone wrong, trying to understand how their simple assassination had turned into a bloodbath.

Dimitri found one of them in the kitchen, looking out the window at the grounds.

"Looking for me?" Dimitri asked.

The man spun around, weapon raised.

Dimitri shot him before he could fire.

Two left.

He heard movement upstairs, the remaining two men trying to escape through an upper-floor window, trying to get out of the villa and back to somewhere defensible.

But there was nowhere defensible on this island. Everywhere was his territory now.

Dimitri took the stairs two at a time, his weapon ready.

He found them in one of the bedrooms, trying to open a window that had been reinforced weeks ago specifically for this purpose.

"End of the line," Dimitri said from the doorway.

The two men turned, weapons raised, understanding in their eyes that this was over.

One of them tried to negotiate. "We’re just soldiers. We were hired. It’s nothing personal...."

Dimitri shot him before he could finish his sentence.

The last man made a run for it, trying to get past Dimitri to the hallway.

Dimitri grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the wall. The man’s weapon fell from his hands, and he tried desperately to get away, to escape the grip of a man who was significantly stronger and significantly more motivated.

"Do you know who I am?" Dimitri asked, his voice cold and absolutely calm.

The man tried to speak, but couldn’t with Dimitri’s hand around his throat.

"I’m the man you came to kill," Dimitri said casually and smile.

He squeezed harder, and the man’s eyes began to bulge. His hands clawed at Dimitri’s arm, trying desperately to break free.

But there was no breaking free.

Dimitri held him against the wall until the struggle stopped. Until the man’s body went limp. Until there was nothing left but a corpse and the knowledge that Dante Romano had made a serious mistake.

Dimitri released the body and let it drop to the floor.

"All clear," Marco’s voice came through the earpiece.

Dimitri stood in the bedroom, breathing hard, his hands covered in blood.

He walked back downstairs and out of the villa into the night air. Marco was waiting for him on the terrace, his weapon still in hand, his expression calm.

"You alright?" Marco asked.

"Fine," Dimitri said. "The men?"

"All secure. No casualties on our side. Two wounded, but nothing serious. We’re cleaning up the bodies now."

"Good," Dimitri said. "Get rid of them completely. I don’t want any evidence, any bodies, any indication that this happened."

"Already arranged," Marco said. "We’ll dispose of them in the water far enough from the island that they won’t wash back ashore for weeks, if ever. By then, they’ll be unidentifiable."