Ezra was knelt down on one knee, the Heckler MP5 held firmly to his shoulder, firing short bursts at the Assassins nearest to him; talking rapidly into his headset. He was giving orders to his people inside the locked-down chamber who were monitoring the scene outside through the network of covert cameras and who were also operating fixed position machine guns to little or no effect due to the Assassin’s stealth and turn of speed… His new instructions were implemented immediately. Commands were input and soon the computers took control of the machine guns, which started firing short bursts of tenmillimetre hollow-point rounds. Locked onto their targets; the bullets were like scythes, dropping Assassins like flies as each round slammed into their heads.
Those Assassins left standing diverted their attention towards Dillon and Tatiana and chips of stone and render were chewed from the wall behind them.
“Hell, where did they come from,” he shouted above the noise of chaos and destruction, dropping low to the ground and changing the magazine in the Heckler. The Assassins charged — and were cut down by Ezra’s Heckler, felling them like trees, their bodies thrown limp like rag dolls.
They hit the ground hard.
Three rolled and sprang back onto their feet. The advanced lightweight body armour that they were wearing, saving them from certain death.
Dillon wiped the sweat from his eyes, wiped his hands on his desert combats and fired another short burst of rounds at the remaining Assassins who were firing from the edge of the olive trees.
Dillon blinked.
Something dark and ominous crept like a black fog across his soul; superimposed across the beauty before him was a dark shroud like nothing he had ever seen before and his senses flowed, time slowed, everything became 3-Dimentional High-Definition.
“We have to get back, back inside the villa…” he hissed.
Tatiana nodded, gun clasped tight.
They moved forward using a low retaining wall as cover. Bullets were coming thick and fast at them, and the Assassins still standing, were firing on full automatic, the smell of cordite all around them.
“What is it?”
“There were seven Assassins, and now there are only four of those bastards firing at us. So where are the other three?”
Dillon’s comms. earpiece crackled and Ezra was talking to him, “Dillon, place your hands over your ears and keep them there.”
Dillon relayed Ezra’s instruction to Tatiana. But, she’d also heard her uncle over her own comm-link, and both hands were already held tightly over her ears.
A moment later the first of five stun grenades went off, followed by the next and the next… Everything immediately became quiet. Only the breeze running through the trees could be heard.
The sun beat down. Dillon wiped sweat from his brow. His mouth was dry — too dry. His body ached from the beatings he’d recently received at the hands of the Assassins. Worst of all was the pain in his lower back, the pain annoyed him and partially impaired his movement.
There was a distant boom of heavy-calibre.
The missile hit the villa with devastating effect. The entire west wing and immediate out-buildings had been disintegrated, flattened to the ground with brick, plaster, and timber blown everywhere. Fire was already ripping through the rest of the villa. Dillon shook his head, slung his Heckler over his shoulder and grabbed Tatiana’s hand.
“This is madness — we have to leave.”
“Where’s Ezra?”
“It’s too late for him. They’re using ship to shore stinger missiles from a boat out there,” Dillon gestured towards the ocean in the distance. “Come on!”
“Dillon, I don’t want to die like this” said Tatiana.
“I don’t want to die at all,” said Dillon.
They sprinted up the path and around the corner of the villa. Dillon ducked as a number of bullets smacked into the render just above his head. There was a scream to his left as Spiros was knocked off his feet, the side of his head wiped away with a large calibre sniper’s rifle. Death had been instantaneous. Tatiana screamed, and Dillon leaped up and emptied a full magazine in the general direction of the Assassin who had fired the lethally accurate shot.
Dillon spun round — was too late, a black clad figure was upon him… Tatiana’s gun rattled in her hands and the sound of gunfire was all around him… He was slammed down hard against the dirt, and for a second thought he was actually dead. Dillon kicked out, rolled over and the dead body slithered off of him, he sprang up on to his haunches and started to move back towards the tunnel entrance, keeping Tats close to him every inch of the way.
Dillon motioned her to stay low, and as they rounded a corner, he pulled free, raised the Glock in his left hand and shot the Assassin standing in their path through the back of the head, watching blood and gore spray and the figure collapse in a tangle of limbs. Dillon grabbed Tatiana’s hand, and as they stepped over the dead body, he said in a raised voice, “Where the hell is Ezra?” Tatiana said nothing.
Dillon glanced round at her to make sure she was okay, “You okay?” A figure ran at them head-on — Tatiana whimpered — the mini Uzi machine pistol in the figures hand lifted a fraction and Dillon could see the finger on the trigger, sensed the applied pressure, pushed Tatiana away and squeezed the Heckler’s trigger as the same time as he dived. Bullets lightly kissed Dillon’s cheek, so close that he momentarily felt the heat of their passing; a line of bullets caught the figure and slammed it into the air, arms flaying around wildly, then it landed twisted and dead.
“Let’s go.” Dillon snatched Tatiana’s hand and dragged her after him. To one side he could see some of Ezra’s men fighting hand to hand with a small group of Assassins, in what looked like a bloody exchange of knives.
Dillon sprinted towards the entrance of the tunnel and stopped a short distance away. He checked behind him.
He wasn’t sure how many Assassins were left, or how many of Ezra’s security force were still standing — as he glanced down at Tatiana, who had been dragged along behind him in his mad flight for safety away from the furious gun battle. There were spots of blood on her face, and Dillon could feel her hands shaking. He looked into her eyes and said slowly, “Don’t panic, Tats. I promise you, we are notgoing to die — and I willprotect you. But I need you fully focused. Come on, we have to keep moving, and Ezra’s escape route is at the end of that tunnel”
“But how…”
“Don’t worry about it. I will look after you.” Then he leaned forward and kissed her gently.
Dillon found himself remarkably calm, an insane sort of calmness which he had only rarely experienced in extremely dangerous situations.
He was thinking in black and white. Everything was suddenly very clear — logical.
He felt no panic, no fear.
It was what had set him apart from all of the other field officers during his time at Ferran & Cardini.
“Follow me.”
Dillon led the way swiftly, Tatiana close behind him. They entered the mouth of the tunnel, bullet-chewed walls, and the rattle of gunfire left behind them as they moved into the underground facility. The noises of violence growing evermore distant, as they moved deeper towards their only hope of escape.
Dillon gripped the Glock tightly with his left hand and inched forward down the narrow corridor towards the security door that led to the control room. He wasn’t even sure if they would be able to gain access, he patted his jacket breast pocket, and it was still there.