The Milestone Protocol by Ernest Dempsey (best books to read in your 20s txt) 📕

“No,” Diego said. “Doesn’t look like any choppers. Not yet, anyway.”

The answer appeared to satisfy the Shinobi warrior. He crossed his arms and continued watching. The katana at his hip hung at the ready. While the elegant blade was his weapon of choice, his weapons of necessity had evolved through the years. Just as his Ninja predecessors before, he’d learned to use the optimal tool for the job at hand.

On his right hip, a SIG Sauer .45 rested in a holster, and he carried a carbine-length AR15 slung over his back.

He imagined that the Shinobi of old might have wondered at modern firearms. Some may have rebuked them, but ultimately Miyamoto knew that even the most hardened traditionalist would bend to the efficiency and lethality that guns posed.

“They will send reinforcements,” Miyamoto announced.

“It’s possible,” Diego nodded. “But not a certainty. If Adriana and Sean can stop Odin, perhaps the organization will crumble before that happens.”

“Cut off the snake’s head, and the body dies.”

“Something like that.”

“I suppose we’ll see,” Miyamoto conceded. “Looks like they’re about to ram through the gate.”

“Yes,” Diego agreed. “Such a shame. That gate is two hundred years old.”

They watched on one of the screens as a military-style Humvee revved its engine and barreled into the gate at full speed. The hinges broke free from the stone pillars holding up sections of the gate. The truck rumbled over the mangled metal and stone, crushing the hydraulic cylinders and bending bars.

The Humvee ground to a halt on the cobblestone driveway just beyond. The driver waited as scores of soldiers poured into the freshly smashed opening.

Diego’s phone rang next to the computer keyboard. He answered it, already knowing who it was.

“Sir?” the woman said.

“I know, Ella. Make sure you and all the others evacuate through the tunnels immediately. Everyone else should already be clear.”

Ella Presley was an expat living in Spain. As a former security director for several high-level political campaigns, she had a wealth of knowledge regarding nearly all manner of risk prevention and defense.

Diego hired her on as a consultant, though she spent many of her days on site, constantly looking for weaknesses in the systems.

“You know,” she’d once said, “they can just climb over the fence.”

Diego had laughed. The stone wall around the property was only a few feet tall, but was heightened by a wrought-iron fence with sharp spikes on the top. Standing at around ten feet with the spikes, it would still be difficult, and painful for many, to try to go over the fence.

“Yes, sir,” Ella said. “I’ll make sure everyone gets out safely. What about you, sir?”

“Oh, I’ll be all right. I have a little surprise in store for our guests. Just make sure you and the others are clear.”

“Of course, sir.”

He thanked her and ended the call, then looked at Miyamoto. “The last ones are evacuating now. I suppose we should get ready to clean up the mess.”

“Yes.”

The basement control room was a 15x15 area with four computer stations and multiple monitors. The wall to their left, however, contained racks of weapons and magazines.

Miyamoto shuffled over to the armory and stuffed four more magazines of AR15-5.56 ammo into his utility belt. Diego followed and did the same, plus he added two more magazines of .40-caliber rounds for his Springfield pistol.

“We shouldn’t need more than this,” Diego insisted, stuffing the last empty slot in his belt with a magazine.

“I would hope not. Not with what you’ve done with the place. My concern isn’t handling the survivors. It’s dealing with the aftermath. We’ll be lucky if the mansion doesn’t burn to the ground.”

Diego chuckled to himself. “Where’s your sense of adventure, old friend?”

“I don’t think what you have planned is my kind of adventure.”

“You think it’s a bad plan?”

Miyamoto returned his gaze to the screens filling with Odin’s soldiers. They were fanning out, surrounding the manor in a giant circle. “No. Your assessment was correct. Their best chance of rooting us out is encircling the house. That will leave no room for escape, except for the tunnels.”

“Which we already discussed. If we leave with the others, they will eventually find us. Probably sooner rather than later. Staying here is the only way to protect them, and take out a good chunk of Odin’s forces.”

“Yes, I know.” He indicated the monitors. “Looks like they’re moving in now.”

Diego looked over at the screens again. On each one, lines of men moved up the knoll toward the mansion. They maneuvered just like a military group would: advancing, taking cover on the ground with weapons aimed forward, then allowing the next in their platoon to advance.

It was exactly as Diego had believed they would attack.

He moved back over to the control panel and flipped a switch. While he and Miyamoto couldn’t see it, both men knew what the switch had done.

All around the manor, sprinkler heads automatically rose out of the ground, aiming out toward the perimeter of soldiers encroaching toward the home.

Diego shifted his right hand to a nearby red button that was covered by a piece of plastic on a hinge. He flipped up the cover and waited, keeping a close eye on the screens.

“I suppose every great castle or historic manor has to go through a fire every few centuries or so,” Miyamoto mused. “No reason for yours to be any different.”

“Yes, you could be right,” Diego said. “I hope that isn’t the case.”

There’d been a good amount of rain during the season, but only a few centimeters in the last two weeks. Things weren’t totally dry, but they weren’t exactly damp, either. That was a double-edged sword, and Diego knew it.

“Nearly there,” Miyamoto said, watching one monitor closely before shifting to the next. There were markers set out on the grounds to guide the two men’s decision regarding their surprise attack. The markers looked like ordinary stones to anyone else on the property, but they had been placed deliberately. Diego reached over and flipped another switch