The moment the command left my lips, the darkness of the South Gate courtyard was shattered by violent, blinding crimson light.
Hidden heavy-caliber automatic turrets deployed from the stone archways with a mechanical screech. Before Silvio’s advance strike team could raise their rifles, red laser targeting grids locked onto their chests.
The courtyard erupted into a roaring hail of suppressed gunfire.
Mercenaries crumpled against the rain-slicked cobblestones in seconds, their weapons clattering uselessly over the stone. Captain Lorenzo dropped his umbrella, letting out a terrified, strangled scream as he spun toward the iron gates, scrambling to flee into the dark tree line.
"He's running," I whispered, my heart thumping hard against my ribs.
"He isn't going anywhere," Dante growled
