Femme Fatale:the Queen Of Chess - Chapter 5
●AR Mansion, a few miles away from Murmansk●
The luxurious BMW halted with a screeching sound, in front of a villa which seemed more of a resplendent manor but still had the vibes of home rather some party villa of an aristocratic person. A man crept out of the BMW adorned in an over sized fur coat, his cold aura well suited with the outer freezing atmosphere of Murmansk.
“Master, the men are waiting for further orders to proceed.”
Niall spoke with utter respect while the man was still holding the door of luxurious BMW, after serving the great Ronan Ross with the privilege of opening the door as he filled him in with the rest of the information.
Ronan did not part his lips, the man neither said a single word nor he blinked his eyes, instead he stood there right in front of the iron gate without moving any inch further, perhaps something had chained his feet, might be some past memory because the man seemed lifeless as soon as he reached the villa.
‘I am back, Amaris. I’m sorry I could not protect our heaven! But I will make it up to you for sure and soon will drive those fools out.’
Who would have imagined that such a terrifying figure of the US, who could send a cold chill down the spine, just with his lifeless deadly silver greyish scary scowl, was a soft cinnamon roll deep down but of course it was until hos wife, Amaris was alive.
After the lady was gone, the mafiya king was opening up in his soliloquies and dreams but then again, his every single day began and end with her thoughts and reminding the conversations.
‘Master zoned out again.’
Niall was still standing with his back a little arched, holding onto the door of BMW. The man had been accompanying Ronan since years that he even forgot to count them on finger, knowing his master a little Niall could sense and assume at times, that what Ronan’s ‘features’ were saying.
That was all he could ‘read’ about his boss, who was unpredictable in every aspect, as the man continued to stare at Ronan, who was standing in the way of closing the door totally ignoring everything.
‘What should I do? Should I speak to him again? No, no, Niall, you know what will happen, right?’
Niall questioned to himself, he had to think twice before acting, everyone under Ronan’s wing knew that they had to be cautious while speaking, or else it would take a split second to the mafiya king, to wring off their necks effortlessly.
A disobedient life was of no use to him and to keep such a man besides him was similar to give your weakness to the enemy, or to hand over a chance again to a person who had earlier missed a shot which was aimed for your head right in between the eyes!
“Are the men ready to take the charge?”
Finally Ronan’s voice brought Niall back into the reality, the man got lost in the endless battle which was going on within his mind, between ‘ what to do’ and ‘ what not to do at any cost’.
“Yes, master. On your signal they will take the charge, all the men are ready with their loins geard up to fight.”
Niall’s face beamed with joy and the poor soul heaved a sigh of relief, as he narrated the whole situation to his master in one go, his restless arse was aching to jump into the battlefield.
“Good. Split up the men into teams of two, five men in each. Surrounding the villa from the front and back.”
Ronan instructed his right hand man, the whole strategy which he wished to implement. The great underworld Lord was sure that only five men were enough to fix the whole mess, there was no need to stuff the house which was his personal space, with the bunch of his thirty men.
“On your command, master.”
Niall wanted to object and to ask that which position he would hold onto, but he had to surrender against his master who was certainly not in a mood to listen to any balderdash. Although, his crestfallen expressions were already narrating the feelings of his heart, his long face was predicted by Ronan right away.
“You will be following me through the front door.”
Ronan shifted his eyes towards Niall, who had a glum expression on his face as if the man was just coming after visiting the ‘doorsteps’ of victory.
The mafiya Lord knew that Niall had always been fond of fighting on the front until Ronan appointed him as secretary and bodyguard, the changing of position made him happy but of course took the liberty to fight, from him, binding him towards the matters of some other importance.
Niall lifted his head up to face Ronan, after the words of his master fell into his ears. The man wanted to utter something, perhaps he wanted to confirm whether his sinful ears had heard the same words he wished to come out of the thin lips of his master, or was it just his hallucinations.
But soon his quizzical expressions changed into serious yet happy ones, he was going to fight on the front and that was all he had desired and wished, to shoot a bullet right in between the eyes of a person.
Niall has a great aim and was an expert in the regard of shooting, it was another thing that the man did not get any such chance after Ronan had promoted him on the position of his personal bodyguard but still the man servant did not let his skill rot, and practiced his aims.
Always one step ahead, was the underworld Lord, Ronan Ross.
“Split into two, five each!”
Niall knew his master was barely holding back after reaching the villa, so he ordered the men and instructed them accordingly the instructions given by his master, using the bluetooth in his ear.
“The rest will stay back. Move!”
The right hand trustworthy man yelled to his pals on the other side of that modified bluetooth, after all he was holding their comradeship and was a superior to them.
Ronan Ross again shifted his gaze from Niall towards the villa, where he had shared numerous memories with his late wife. The house was his heaven, and no one was allowed to change the position of any item placed in that villa, let alone causing a ruckus.
How could he spare the intruders for stepping into his personal space, on the top they dared to party in his little heaven!
On the other side of the huge iron gate and the thick brick wall was the place, where his wife had breathed her last. A feeble golden light was illuminating the room downstairs, which confirmed Ronan that the thugs were resting down there, totally unaware that their death note was out now and the Grim Reaper had arrived himself on the gate to suck their souls!
The skillful mafia men surrounded the villa tiptoed, with such an expertise that even the air would not have sensed any human activity in the outskirts of Murmansk.
Completely armed with Benelli Super Black Eagle eight men proceeded accordingly instructions while the rest of the two trained hitmen held their positions in a certain angle with Ruger 10/22 aimed at the windows.
Every armoury seemed the regular one but only the user knew the difference between the ‘goods’ used by other people and by the men of Ronan Ross, each item was modified and enhanced to work effectively, giving off thousand times deadly results.
Similar thing was done to the bluetooth devices which were designed to contact in a wide range and modified to the extent that only Ronan could tap their activity and calls, of course the mafiya Lord had tried his hands and criminally exceptional mind in every single regard.
Two men knocked down the back door barging inside, while Niall banged the front entrance, and stepped inside, of course with the permit of his master.
The sudden intrusion from all directions induced a fearful condition into those thugs, that they shot up from their chairs in frenzy and one of them managed to utter something, more like in a commanding tone.
“Who the hell are yo…!”
The very next moment his mouth was bleeding, having a blade that resembled some ninja stuff, and had pierced his tongue into two getting stuck at the back.
Everything happened in a split second like an illusion that the unlucky fate did not give him a chance to react, after falling into the hands of the devil on an unlucky day.
“You talk too much!”
To the surprise of the thug, a figure emerged from the front ingress, the tall man commented on the utterance of the thug, his voice laced with disgust having no trace of mercy, as he stopped right in front of him, with his silvery greyish eyes penetrating onto his face, whilst Ronan’s men held down other thugs.