36
Lyon advanced in a crouch and surveyed the scene around him. It didn’t take long to come to a conclusion.
The situation was critical.
None of the men attending his wedding were wearing tactical gear, and while all of them had weapons, they were seriously outgunned by the seemingly endless stream of Vadim’s men, all of them carrying heavy weaponry, emerging from the woods in military formation.
The men Lyon had stationed at the perimeter of the woods were either down or fighting, and Lyon could only assume the men at the front of the house had been compromised as well.
At least Kira had Alek. He would get Kira out.
The thought gave Lyon a moment of relief. He thought fleetingly of Rurik, stationed at the front door, and hoped the old man was okay, then waded toward the action.
* * *
Alek dragged Kira to her feet and started pulling her toward the house. She spotted Annie herding the women and children inside while the men rushed in the other direction, toward the invaders.
The catering staff and bartender had disappeared, hopefully into the house as well, and the quartet’s instruments had been toppled over and left behind in the chaos.
Everyone was seeking cover. Everyone except the bratva’s men.
Except Lyon.
This was Vadim Ivanov’s doing and he’d come here for her husband. Lyon was out there, the target of this operation, and she was here, utterly helpless and being dragged to safety like some kind of Victorian heroine who might faint with fear.
“Stop it.” Kira fought against Alek, pulling until he stopped his forward motion. “Stop it, Alek.”
She broke free and fished for the gun under her dress, yanked it from the tie knotted at her thigh.
Alek’s eyes lit with surprise. “We have to get to the house. I can’t protect you out here.”
Gunfire popped from every direction, a steady staccato, and everywhere Kira looked, the lawn was covered with men, like ants at an ill-fated picnic.
“I’m ordering you to protect my husband,” Kira yelled at him.
“I don’t take my orders from you, Kira!” He was shouting at her, whether to be heard over the gunfire or because he was angry, Kira didn’t know.
“You do right now, because I am not going into that house if you go with me,” she said. She grabbed onto his arm and looked at him pleadingly. “Nothing can happen to him, Alek. Do you understand? These men are here for him, and he’s out there, unprotected.”
“He’ll never forgive me if I leave you,” Alek said.
“Will you take that chance to save his life?” she asked.
Alek hesitated and she saw her opening. Vadim’s men were getting closer to their position, working their way through the bratva’s men who had first rushed toward the fight.
“I have a gun,” Kira said. “I’ll go to the house right now. But only if you help him. We’re wasting time standing here arguing about it, and if those men reach the house it’s not going to matter that you stayed with me.”
Alek glanced at the lawn. Vadim’s men, recognizable by their tactical gear, were making steady progress toward the house.
He looked back at her. “You’ll go right to the house?”
She nodded and shoved him. “Go!”
He turned and ran toward the lawn.
* * *