Chapter 49: The Final Sparrow

Inside the main building.

Gunshots echoed through the halls.

Evan, with his remaining eight killers, was locked in a fierce firefight with Jonathan's security team on the first floor.

"Rat-tat-tat-tat..."

Bullets chewed into the walls, blasting plaster and splinters into the air.

Expensive oil paintings were shredded. Crystal chandeliers burst into glittering shards.

"Upstairs! Jonathan's on the second floor!"

Evan's eyes were bloodshot. Gripping his overheated assault rifle, he fired as he charged up the staircase.

"Stop him!"

Jonathan's voice crackled over the loudspeaker, edged with panic.

At the base of the stairs, three gunmen leaned out and opened fire on Evan.

"Ah!"

One of the killers beside Evan took a hit and dropped.

"Cover me!"

Evan roared and lobbed a grenade.

"Boom!"

It detonated at the stairway entrance, tearing the three gunmen apart.

"Go!"

Evan stepped over the gore and sprinted up to the second floor.

However.

The instant he pushed into the second-floor corridor.

"Rat-tat-tat-tat..."

More than a dozen gunmen spilled out from both sides.

Rounds hammered the hallway in a relentless barrage.

"Get down!"

Evan dove sideways.

Still, he was a beat too late.

A bullet punched into his left shoulder.

"Ah!"

He grunted as blood spread across his black tactical vest.

The seven killers behind him immediately returned fire.

"Rat-tat-tat..."

Both sides sprayed bullets at each other in the narrow corridor.

Muzzle flashes stuttered. Smoke thickened the air.

In less than thirty seconds, four more of Evan's men went down.

On Jonathan's side, seven or eight also fell.

"Evan!"

The study door at the far end of the hall swung open. Jonathan leaned out, wearing a smug grin.

"You're done!"

He flicked his hand.

More than a dozen fully armed gunmen surged out of the study.

"Damn it!"

Evan clenched his jaw and tried to fall back, only to see a wave of men flooding up the stairs behind him.

Pinned from both sides.

"Drop your weapons! Surrender!"

Jonathan shouted.

"Screw you!"

Evan snapped his rifle up and squeezed the trigger at Jonathan.

Click.

Empty.

"Hahaha..."

Jonathan laughed loud and hard. "My dear brother, is that all you've got? Take him!"

"Yes!"

More than a dozen gunmen rushed in, surrounding Evan and his remaining three killers.

One of them slammed a rifle butt into the back of Evan's head.

Evan's vision went dark. He hit his knees with a heavy thud.

"Tie him up!"

Two gunmen stepped in and cinched a rope tight around Evan.

Jonathan strolled out of the study, idly toying with a gold-plated pistol.

He stopped in front of Evan, crouched, and tipped Evan's chin up with the barrel.

Jonathan smiled cruelly. "Evan, hear me out. The moment you decided to come for me, you were already finished."

"You really think I didn't know you hired killers from the Nightfall organization?"

"You really think I'd be caught off guard?"

"Evan, you're naive."

"...Screw you..."

Evan rasped, drenched in blood.

Jonathan shook his head. "Still talking tough?"

He stood and gestured to his men. "Take him to the courtyard. I want everyone to see what happens to anyone who betrays me."

"Yes!"

Two gunmen hauled Evan up and dragged him toward the stairs.

However.

Just when everyone thought it was over.

Evan let out a low, vicious laugh.

"Jonathan..."

He lifted his head, madness flashing in his eyes. "You think... You won?"

Jonathan frowned.

"I knew... from the start... this was a trap..."

Evan grinned as blood ran from the corner of his mouth. "So before I came... I planned to take you with me!"

"What are you talking about?"

Jonathan's face tightened.

"I'm wearing... ten pounds of C4!"

Evan roared and thrashed, trying to reach inside his tactical vest.

Sure enough.

Under the vest, blocks of explosives were packed in a tight ring.

"Hahaha..."

Evan laughed bitterly. "And the detonator is right here!"

He snapped his right hand open.

A red button sat in his palm.

No one breathed.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

Nothing.

Evan stared at the detonator, eyes wide with disbelief.

"How... how is that possible..."

Jonathan froze for a beat, then burst out laughing.

"Evan! You really thought I wouldn't take precautions?"

He stepped in close, crouched, and murmured into Evan's ear. "Where'd you get your gear?"

"Some black-market dealer, right?"

"I bought that dealer a long time ago."

"What you're wearing is fake."

Evan's whole body shook, his eyes burning with despair and rage.

"You... you..."

"Me what?"

Jonathan straightened and looked down at him, smug and cold.

"Evan, from start to finish, you were in my hands."

"You thought you were the hunter?"

"No."

"You're just prey."

Jonathan turned and waved to his men. "Drag him down. I'm going to take my time with him and make sure he learns..."

He never finished.

Something hissed through the air, and the gunman beside Jonathan's head suddenly exploded.

Blood and brain matter sprayed across the corridor.

"What?"

Jonathan's eyes went wide.

The next instant, more sharp snaps cut through the air.

The gunmen in the hallway dropped one after another.

Each fell to a single shot to the head.

In three seconds, more than twenty men lay dead in spreading pools of blood.

"We're under attack!"

Panicked shouts rose from downstairs.

Then.

"Rat-tat-tat-tat..."

Heavy gunfire erupted.

It turned into screams almost immediately.

"Ah!"

"What the hell are they?!"

"No... please... don't..."

The gunfire cut out.

The main building fell into dead silence.

Only Jonathan and Evan were left alive.

Jonathan trembled, his face drained pale.

He raised his pistol toward the corridor entrance.

Footsteps approached.

Steady. Unhurried.

Coming up from the stairs.

Six dark figures emerged into view.

Black combat uniforms. Skull masks.

They moved with a suffocating, surgical calm.

The Shadow team.

"Who... who are you..."

Jonathan's voice shook.

No answer.

A cold barrel lifted.

A shot slammed into Jonathan's right leg.

"Ah!"

Jonathan screamed, dropped his pistol, and crumpled to his knees.

Another shot.

His left leg buckled.

He collapsed, unable to stand.

The Shadow team fanned out and swept the corridor.

After confirming there were no survivors, they withdrew to the stairwell and dropped to one knee.

"Boss, area clear."

Footsteps sounded again.

This time, even slower.

Leo, cigar in his mouth and hands in his coat pockets, strolled up to the second floor.

Behind him, Ivy clicked along in high heels, moving with easy grace.