THE SHADOW’S DAUGHTER AND THE SINS OF SILENCE

The heavy steel blast doors buckled inward with a concussive roar, flames licking through the warped edges as the thermite burned itself out. The air in the bunker grew instantly thick with acrid smoke and the sweet, sickening smell of burnt wiring. Christian stood behind a barricade of reinforced steel crates, the combat shotgun resting effortlessly against his shoulder.

Julian slid into place beside him, his slate-grey suit jacket torn and stained with soot, racking the slide of an assault rifle. ""Front perimeter held for six minutes. Dante took out nine of them before he went down.""

""He will be buried with honors,"" Christian said, his eyes never leaving the smoke-filled doorway. ""How many left?""

""At least fifteen. Viktor is in the rear, hobbling on that shattered knee. He's desperate, Christian. He knows if he doesn't finish you today, his own syndicate will tear him apart for starting a blood feud.""

""Good,"" Christian muttered. ""Desperate men make mistakes.""

The doors gave way entirely, crashing onto the concrete floor with a deafening thrum. Through the smoke, four heavily armored mercenaries rushed forward, weapons raised.

Christian fired. The roar of the 12-gauge shotgun in the enclosed space was deafening. The lead mercenary was lifted off his feet, his tactical plate shattering under the kinetic impact. Julian opened fire with precise, controlled three-round bursts, dropping two others before they could acquire a target.

The fourth mercenary managed to toss a stun grenade toward their position.

""Move!"" Christian barked, shoving Julian backward just as the grenade exploded in a blinding flash of white light and ear-shattering concussive force.

Christian hit the floor, his ears ringing with high-pitched feedback, his vision swirling into double images. Footsteps echoed through the ringing silence. Two more gunmen rounded the corner, their rifles pointed directly at Christian’s chest.

Before they could pull their triggers, a series of rapid shots echoed from an unexpected angle. Both gunmen collapsed, their blood spraying across the grey concrete.

Christian blinked away the blurriness and looked up.

Serena was standing near the edge of the maintenance corridor, both hands wrapped around a heavy service revolver she had stolen from the armory rack. Her arms shook violently, her face was white as a sheet, but her aim had been lethal.

Behind her, peeking from around the corner of the heavy iron door, was Mia, clutching her taped bunny to her chest.