Drake Sisters 06 - Turbulent Sea

them. They'd be caught in a squeeze trap, with no way out.
    The door was a no-win. Once he was through it, every gun would be on him. They expected the door to be used. Ilya went from a crouch to a sprint, leaping and going through the window feet first, gun firing in the direction of the voices he'd heard. He landed and rolled, watching for the flashes of return fire even as he scrambled for cover.
    He knew the exact layout of the backyard. It was essential in his business to be familiar with any potential battlefield in or outside a house. It was three feet to the relative cover of brush and an additional two feet to the large boulders placed artistically around the waterfall that flowed down a small stream into a large pool.
    Four flashes and a long howl told him he was facing at least five. He felt it then - that stillness in him - the trained warrior taking over. No emotion, only the killing machine that had been developed at such an early age. His vision changed - widened -then tunneled as he saw targets. Systematically he took them out. Dylan was losing soldiers tonight.
    He shot one after another, using kill shots, no mercy, kill or be killed. There could be no mistakes, no mess-ups, not when so many innocent lives were at stake. He wasn't trading one human trafficking ring for another. If he could shut the ring down before they managed to get started, he would do it.
    He fired fast - one, two, three, four, five. The fifth shot took out the man who had been wounded. Ilya cleared the area in less than forty seconds and was back to the kitchen, yanking open the door and signaling the others into the night.
    'They're coming right behind us,' Eddie warned as they ran for the nearest car. T heard them running down the stairs.'
    Ilya slid his hand along the visor, dropped the keys into Eddie's hand, grabbed him by the collar and thrust him into the car behind the wheel. He spun around and fired several shots at the door to keep what was left of the assassination squad back.
    'You're driving, and do exactly what I say when I say it. Brian, backseat with Sergei. Stay down at all times, and I mean down. They'll be coming after us.' He slammed the door behind Nikitin and dove into the front passenger seat.
    'Go. Get moving.'
    Eddie shoved the gear into reverse and stomped his foot on the gas pedal. Tires screamed, and they swerved, straightened, and crashed into the gate. The gate crumpled and burst open, so that they emerged backward onto the street, hit the curb, jumped the sidewalk and then Eddie got control and managed to put the car in gear to go forward.
    Bullets rained on them, hitting the windshield, the doors and the sides of the car.
    Ilya leaned over and stomped his foot over Eddie's. The car fishtailed down the street with Eddie cursing every inch of the way. Ilya didn't let up at the corner, forcing Eddie to run the stop sign and shoot them in a wider turn into oncoming traffic before he straightened them out again.
    Ilya glanced over his shoulder. 'Everybody all right?'
    Nikitin nodded. He kept one hand on Brian's back, holding him down. 'Who are these fuckers?' the Russian boss demanded, his face tight with anger.
    'None of Tarasov's family could have orchestrated this move against you. A couple of the cousins were left alive, but they don't have the balls to try to take you out.' Ilya didn't want to give up the information on Dylan before he was certain he got the names and locations of Nikitin's network of human traffickers.
    Ilya tossed his phone to Nikitin then steadied his gun with his other arm, waiting. It wasn't easy to shoot out of a moving car the way they portrayed on television. 'Pavel Demidov was a traitor. Whatever he knew of your operation, the competition knows. They'll try to kill everyone. You're going to have to call your people and tell them to get undercover fast. He'll have exposed them all. I need time to find out who's behind this.'
    Nikitin glanced behind them at the two cars moving through traffic at high speed. 'Just get me out of this, Ilya, and I'll…' He abruptly switched to Russian to finish his sentence, saying, 'I'll kill every one of them and their families. Find out.' He kept his hand on Brian's back, his body shielding the guitarist, who had been pushed to the floor.
    He was furious. Ilya could hear it in his voice. Nikitin was many things, but he wasn't a coward. He would never tolerate an attempt on his life without brutal, bloody retaliation. There would be a