Chapter 4 - The Raid on the Sanctuary
Back at the Vance estate, the rain began to fall in torrential sheets. Leo sat upright in the enormous bed, clutching a velvet pillow against his small frame. The storm rattled the tall glass windows, but it wasn't the thunder that frightened him. It was the silence. The rhythmic footsteps of the guards outside his door had suddenly stopped.
""Daddy?"" Leo called out meekly, his voice swallowed by the vast room.
No answer came.
Slowly, the six-year-old slid out of bed, his bruised feet touching the cold oak floor. He padded toward the door and turned the brass handle. It swung open silently.
In the hallway, the two guards lay motionless on the carpet. There was no blood, only small dart puncture marks on their necks. Standing at the end of the long gallery were three men dressed in tactical grey uniforms, their faces concealed behind matte-black masks. They moved with mechanical efficiency, silenced weapons raised.
Leo gasped, backing into the bedroom and slamming the heavy oak door shut. He turned the deadbolt, his hands shaking so violently he almost dropped the key.
Outside, a heavy boot slammed into the wood. The lock rattled, splintering the frame.
""Secure the target,"" a harsh voice ordered through the wood. ""Alive. Thorne wants the boy delivered to the freighter before dawn.""
Leo crawled under the massive four-poster bed, curling into the tightest ball he could manage. He remembered what his father had whispered in his ear just hours ago: You are a Vance. We do not break. He clamped his hands over his mouth to suppress his ragged sobs as the door gave way with a thunderous crash.
Heavy tactical boots entered the room, stalking across the hardwood.
Leo watched from beneath the dust ruffle as a pair of boots stopped right beside the bed. A gloved hand reached down to lift the fabric.
Just as the fabric rose, the window behind them shattered into a thousand glittering shards.
A grappling hook caught the iron chandelier, and a black-clad figure swung through the tempest outside, firing three rapid shots before his feet even touched the floor. The grey-clad intruder collapsed with a dull thud.
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Marcus landed gracefully, smoke rising from his suppressed pistol. He knelt beside the bed instantly. ""Leo! Grab my arm, kid! Now!""
Leo scrambled out, burying his face in Marcus's tactical vest. But as Marcus pulled the boy toward the concealed panic passage behind the bookshelf, a red laser dot centered squarely on the middle of the child’s back.
