Another massive explosion rocks the building as Viktor’s rocket teams continue their destruction of the estate. Debris and plaster rain from the damaged ceiling, but the kitchen’s reinforced construction is holding up better than we initially expected.
“Anya, status report on enemy communications?” I call to her mobile command post that we set up near the lake.
“They’re coordinating a three-pronged military assault,” her voice comes back through the radio static. “Main force pushing through the center, flanking teams advancing on both sides. Standard doctrine from someone with serious tactical training.”
“Any mention of forest positions or alternate defensive strategies?”
“Negative on both counts. They still believe we’re trapped inside the buildings and fighting a conventional defense.”
Perfect. Viktor’s people are executing a textbook assault on fixed positions while we’re conducting a mobile defense from superior terrain that we know intimately.
“Movement detected on the rear approach,” Boris announces. “Four hostiles with military breaching equipment heading for the back entrance.”
“Alexei, can your team handle that incursion?”
“Already engaging the targets,” my brother responds, followed by the sound of sustained gunfire from behind the house.
He and Katya are fighting through significant injuries, but neither would consider sitting out this final confrontation with Viktor’s network.
“Rear breach team neutralized,” Alexei reports with satisfaction, “but we’ve got additional movement incoming from the eastern tree line.”
“How many additional hostiles?”
“At least six, possibly more. They’re using the forest cover to advance on our established positions.”
I curse. Viktor is adapting faster than expected, using our terrain advantages against us in ways we didn’t fully anticipate.
“All teams, be advised that enemy forces are advancing through the woods. Watch your backgrounds and identify targets carefully before engaging. Avoid friendly fire.”
“Copy that, boss,” comes the acknowledgement from multiple team leaders.
Things get nastier as Viktor’s people realize we’re not going down easy. They’re good at what they do, but we picked this ground for a reason.
We move from the kitchen to the shattered front windows, staying low as bullets punch through what’s left of the walls. From this position, we can cover most of the courtyard and gardens.
“Three o’clock,” Katya calls.
Two men break cover. I drop one. The other ducks behind a planter.
“I see him,” she mutters, putting three rounds through stone. Silence.
“Got him.”
We’re working together like we’ve been doing this for years instead of minutes. Her training and my street experience make one hell of a combination.
“Dmitri,” Boris crackles. “We’ve got a serious problem. More vehicles on the main road.”
“How many?”
“Three more military trucks. Viktor brought a substantial second wave.”
The fight just tipped. We planned for one push, not forty mercs with military toys.
“Can we hold against those numbers?”
“We’re about to find out whether superior tactics can overcome superior numbers.”
Through the broken windows, I see the new vehicles rapidly disgorging armed figures who advance toward our positions. Viktor’s not just trying to eliminate immediate threats. He’s attempting to overwhelm us with numbers and firepower.
