Chapter 4 - The Fire from the Sky
The sound of twin turbine blades shook the antique crystal chandeliers of Blackwood Manor.
""Elena, down!"" Cole roared, tackling his sister off the sofa and shielding her with his body as the stained-glass windows of the library exploded inward in a shower of colored glass and lead.
Rounds of heavy 7.62mm ammunition chewed through the oak bookshelves, reducing centuries-old first editions to confetti. Tristan was already moving, sliding across the slick hardwood floor on his knees, scooping up his assault rifle and firing three controlled bursts through the shattered window.
The muzzle flash lit up the courtyard outside. A sleek, matte-black civilian transport chopper hovered twenty feet above the lawn, two snipers leaning out of the open side door.
""They're wearing private contractor patches!"" Tristan yelled over the deafening gunfire. ""Sovereign Defense! These aren't Vance street thugs, Cole! These are tier-one mercs!""
""Leo, where's the panic room?"" Cole barked, pulling Elena to her feet and shoving her toward the reinforced hallway behind the fireplace.
""Basement vault, behind the wine cellar!"" Leo shouted, unplugging his portable drive with one hand while drawing a compact SIG Sauer pistol with the other. ""Reinforced titanium door, independent air filtration! It’ll hold against anything short of a bunker buster!""
""Take Elena and go!"" Cole ordered. ""Tristan and I will draw them into the courtyard.""
""Cole, don't leave me!"" Elena pleaded, her fingernails digging into his leather sleeve. ""They didn't just come for the drive. Julian said they were going to burn the house down to erase the bloodline!""
""Nobody burns our home,"" Cole said, his eyes burning with lethal certainty. ""Go. Now.""
Leo grabbed Elena’s shoulder and pulled her down the narrow stone stairs leading into the underground labyrinth of the manor.
Cole turned to Tristan. Tristan had already discarded his empty magazine, snapping a fresh one into place with a crisp click. He offered Cole a modified Remington 870 shotgun from the hall armory rack.
""Just like Kandahar?"" Tristan grinned, though there was zero humor in his eyes.
""Worse,"" Cole replied, racking the shotgun slide with a brutal metallic clatter. ""This time it's personal.""
The brothers kicked open the heavy iron side doors and charged out into the driving rain, straight into the crosshairs of five heavily armed operatives advancing across the gravel drive.
Cole fired first. The heavy twelve-gauge slug caught the lead mercenary in the center of his ballistic vest, flipping him backward into the ornamental fountain. Tristan covered the right flank, his rifle barking in rapid succession, dropping two men attempting to flank the garage.
Above them, the helicopter banked hard, its spotlight blinding them. A megaphone crackled through the downpour:
""MONTGOMERY BOYS. STAND DOWN. YOUR FATHER TOOK SOMETHING THAT BELONGS TO THE COUNCIL. RETURN THE FOURTH HEIR, OR YOUR SISTER DIES FIRST.""
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Cole fired a slug directly into the helicopter's searchlight, shattering it into darkness. But as the chopper veered off, Cole noticed a blinking red beacon planted against the foundation of the house.
A seismic charge. And the countdown timer read: 00:08.
