Chapter 7 - Darkness Over the Estate
The emergency sirens on the lawn choked into silence as the backup generators failed to kick in. Outside, the headlights of the ambulance flickered twice before dying, their electrical systems killed by a localized electromagnetic pulse. In the sudden, pitch-black void of the grand foyer, the only sound was the shallow, desperate rhythm of Leo’s labored breathing and the steady beep of the battery-operated cardiac monitor.
""Get down!"" Julian shouted, lunging forward to shield the settee with his own body.
A split second later, the tall arched windows lining the east wing shattered in a deafening cascade of safety glass. Flash grenades detonated in rapid succession, filling the foyer with blinding white light and concussive sound waves that drove the paramedics to their knees, disoriented and clutching their ears. Clara moved with predatory instinct, rolling beneath the heavy oak sideboard and dragging the infant's transport bassinet with her into the narrow recess.
Armed silhouettes poured through the broken window frames, their tactical gear unmarked, night-vision lenses glowing a cold phosphor green. They didn't move like standard intruders; their movements were disciplined, military, sweeping the perimeter with suppressed submachine guns aimed at center mass.
""Secure the package,"" a low voice barked through a throat mic. ""Eliminate the witnesses. Marcus wants the house cleared before local jurisdiction can deploy tactical units.""
Julian didn't wait for them to acquire targets. He pulled the service weapon from the holster of the unconscious officer beside him, firing three rounds into the nearest operative’s chest plate. The man went down with a heavy thud, and Julian used the momentary confusion to scramble behind the grand marble pillar supporting the second-floor mezzanine.
""Clara! The service lift behind the kitchen!"" Julian yelled, firing another two suppression shots toward the hallway to pin down the advancing team. ""It connects directly to the sub-basement bunker!""
Clara didn't hesitate. Shielding Leo with her entire torso, she crawled through the darkness along the edge of the perimeter wall, avoiding the sweeping red laser sights that cut through the haze of smoke. She reached the narrow paneled door of the vintage dumbwaiter lift, shoving the bassinet inside just as a hail of suppressed fire chewed the drywall above her head into dust.
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She slammed the brass security gate shut and pulled the manual descending brake. As the lift plummeted into the dark shaft, Clara reached into her uniform pocket and pulled out the St. Jude key card.
The lift stopped with a jarring metal clang in the cold sub-basement, but when the doors parted, Clara found herself staring down the barrel of a polished chrome revolver held by Marcus Vance himself.
