The door shattered inward with a scream of tortured metal. Splinters of rusted steel flew across the room, clattering against the concrete floor. For a heartbeat, silence hung heavy—the inhale before a storm.

Then the Russians surged through.

Dante moved before I could breathe. One shot, then another, precise and final. The first man fell instantly, the second crumpled with a strangled cry. The third ducked behind the doorframe, firing blindly into the room.

“Down!” Dante barked, shoving me behind a heavy boiler tank as bullets chewed the air where I’d been standing.

I dropped, my palms slapping against the wet floor, heart in my throat. The smell of gunpowder...