BLOODLINES OF SILENCE AND SCARS

Elena slowly lifted her hands, letting the silver chain dangle from her index finger. “Who are you?” she demanded, stalling for a single heartbeat of thought. “Julian’s men are above us.”

“Julian Vance is currently pinned down on the second floor with three hollow-points in his tactical vest,” the taller mercenary sneered, stepping closer. “He won’t be coming down. Drop the chain. Now.”

Titan was vibrating with tension, his front paws sliding on the slick floor, waiting for the split-second command that Marcus had spent years drilling into his instincts. Elena remembered the single command her father had taught her on the green lawns of their country estate when she was just a girl, a command meant only for the darkest moments.

“Titan... Liberate!” she screamed.

The 150-pound mastiff launched forward with bone-crushing velocity. The lead mercenary didn't even have time to squeeze the trigger before Titan collided with his chest, driving him violently into the damp stone floor. A scream tore from the man's throat as Titan’s jaws clamped onto his forearm, crushing bone and Kevlar alike.

The second mercenary pivoted, bringing his muzzle down toward the thrashing dog.

Without thinking, Elena grabbed a heavy iron sconce from the wall and hurled it with all her strength. The metal struck the operative’s helmet, throwing off his aim. A burst of suppressed rounds chewed into the stone ceiling, showering them in dust and shrapnel.

Before the shooter could reacquire his target, a single, sharp gunshot cracked through the arched chamber.

The second mercenary crumpled forward, dropping his weapon and collapsing heavily onto his face. Behind him stood Julian, bleeding heavily from a graze across his left temple, his three-piece suit torn and stained with dust, a smoking pistol raised in his hand.

Titan released the unconscious mercenary on the floor and returned to Elena, panting heavily, blood dripping from his jowls.

Julian stepped over the fallen bodies, his eyes wild and dark. “The key,” he breathed, holding his ribs. “Insert the key. Now. The house is compromised.”

Elena looked at the blood on Julian's temple, then down at the serpentine lock. Her hands shook as she drove the metal key into the brass mechanism. It turned with a heavy, satisfying clunk of ancient gears.

The heavy steel door slid back an inch with a low hiss, revealing a brightly lit chamber filled with computer banks, wall-mounted monitors, and a massive glass display containing a single black ledger.