He remembered the layout of the building. There were three ways in and out: the front door, which had now been breached, a door to the side and one at the back. He assessed that each access point would now have been compromised by the assaulters, leaving the roof as the only way out. The stairs were at the end of the hallway that ran along the left-hand side of the building, and he started toward it, staying as compact as his large frame allowed.

He saw a starburst of muzzle flash ahead of him, the noise of the shots lost amid the deafening cacophony. Björn zoned it all out, concentrating on getting to the hallway in one piece. There was another flash of automatic gunfire, but this time the rifle jerked up high and discharged into the ceiling, its bearer plugged by a round he would never have seen. The man’s face appeared through the smoke; it was one of La Bruja’s guards.

Björn flinched as a round pulverised the wall behind him, but kept moving. A figure appeared from out of the smoke. Björn aimed and fired, not caring whether it was a cartel gunman or one of the assaulters. The man’s momentum was arrested; his legs went from under him and he disappeared into the smoke again. Björn knelt down next to the spasming body; it was a soldier, dressed all in black. He was wearing plate armour, but Björn’s shot had blasted a hole in the man’s eye. The soldier had been toting a Tavor X95 bullpup rifle. Björn dragged the strap over the man’s head and saw that the rifle had been fitted with an underslung grenade launcher.

He saw another blur of motion to his right and, operating on muscle memory, he swivelled at the hips and discharged a burst on full-auto. The fusillade disappeared into the smoke and Björn heard the grunt of pain as whoever it was he had seen was stitched by at least one of the rounds.

Björn set off again, reaching the doorway and then hurrying through it. The smoke had yet to reach the corridor, and he saw Six and Eight at the foot of the stairs. La Bruja was between them.

“We need to leave,” Björn said. He pointed to the stairs.

“They’re on the roof, too,” Six said. “They dropped grenades through the skylights.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Björn said. “That’s the only way we’re getting out. Move.”

106