Chapter 8 - The Breached Walls
The explosion blew the library doors completely off their hinges.
Thick gray smoke poured into the hallway, smelling of sulfur and pulverized drywall.
I pulled the incubator out of the panic room and secured the latches.
June was safe inside the reinforced glass, but I had no idea how long the oxygen would last.
I slung Vance’s submachine gun over my shoulder and moved cautiously through the smoke.
The sound of gunfire in the foyer had completely stopped.
An eerie, terrifying silence settled over the mansion.
I crept toward the edge of the hallway, using a shattered marble pillar for cover.
The foyer was completely destroyed, littered with broken glass and bullet casings.
My father’s military police officers were lying on the floor, either unconscious or severely wounded.
I frantically searched the wreckage for my father.
I spotted him kneeling near the front doors, bleeding heavily from a wound in his shoulder.
He was surrounded by six heavily armed syndicate mercenaries wearing tactical masks.
Richard and Margaret Pembroke were cowering in the corner, holding their hands in the air.
Wesley was standing right next to the mercenary leader, looking incredibly smug.
“I told you I could get the situation under control,” Wesley told the mercenary.
The mercenary leader ignored Wesley and pressed the barrel of his rifle to my father's head.
“Where is your daughter and the drive, Colonel?” the leader demanded.
My father spat blood onto the marble floor and simply smiled.
“She is exactly where she needs to be,” my father rasped.
I raised my stolen submachine gun, calculating the angles.
I could take out three of them before the others returned fire, but my father would surely die in the crossfire.
I needed a distraction to break their formation.
Suddenly, the wailing security sirens abruptly cut off.
May you like
A calm, authoritative voice echoed through the estate’s intercom system.
“This is the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Drop your weapons immediately.”
