A few minutes later, the ground beneath us shakes as our explosives are detonated around theMikhailov gates. The metal screams in protest, but it’s no match for the bombs. Once the dust settles,the path is clear.
I give the command for my men to drive through. “Stay in the jeeps until you have them on thedefensive,” I instruct.
The line of cars is swallowed by the lingering smoke from the explosives. Before we clear the areaof reduced visibility, the gunshots begin.
And I make my move.
I head inside with Jax at my back. He covers me while I look for a way into the massive mansion.
My men in the jeeps are picking off Mikhailov soldiers like fish in a barrel. There doesn’t seem to beany effort at a coordinated attack. Just flailing chaos in every direct
