Chapter 13 - Breach and Clear
The storm clouds hanging over the Atlantic provided perfect cover. Rain began to pound the manicured lawns of the Montoya estate as Mateo and Marcus slipped through a blind spot in the western perimeter fence, having disabled the secondary camera loop using an EMP jammer.
Mateo moved with lethal, terrifying efficiency. Two guards patrolling the rose garden were dropped instantly with two silent, subsonic rounds from his suppressed rifle before they could raise their radios. Moving low through the manicured hedges, they approached the side terrace of the sprawling limestone mansion.
""Basement security station is below the conservatory,"" Marcus whispered through his comm headset. ""I’ll breach the monitors and cut the estate’s power grid. You have three minutes of backup generator delay to reach the master suite on the third floor.""
""Keep Sofia safe, Marcus,"" Mateo whispered back. ""If anything goes wrong, prioritize her over me.""
""Understood. Happy hunting, kid.""
Mateo scaled the limestone trellis leading to the second-floor balcony with effortless athletic precision. As he reached the marble balustrade, the entire estate suddenly plunged into pitch darkness. Marcus had severed the main power.
Inside the mansion, shouts of alarm erupted in Spanish and English. Red emergency lights flickered on along the baseboards, casting long, bloody shadows across the vaulted corridors.
Mateo shattered the French doors of the balcony with a tactical boot, rolling into the hallway. Three guards rushed around the corner, tactical lights blazing. Mateo fired from the hip, dropping all three in tight, controlled bursts before they could acquire a target. He moved down the hallway like a phantom, every corner cleared with ruthless mechanical perfection.
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He reached the heavy mahogany doors of the master suite. Kicking the latch open, he raised his rifle, sweeping the room.
Sitting in a massive leather armchair beside a crackling fireplace was Don Hector Montoya, hooked up to an oxygen tank, a faded blanket over his lap. And sitting on the Persian rug beside him, clutching a teddy bear with tears streaming down her pale cheeks, was Sofia.
