Chapter 4 - The Hidden Tunnels
The mercenaries opened fire immediately. Bullets chewed through the expensive drywall and shattered the antique vases lining the hall. "Get behind the marble pillars!" I commanded, returning fire wildly to buy us time. I hit one of the attackers in the chest, sending him crashing onto the hardwood floor. Claire pulled a hidden knife from her boot and handed it to Harper. "Do not hesitate to use this if someone grabs you," she instructed the terrified teenager. I realized we could not possibly fight our way up the stairs. "There is a prohibition-era smuggling tunnel beneath the wine cellar," I told Claire. We scrambled down the dark basement stairs, the sound of heavy boots chasing us from above. The wine cellar was damp and smelled heavily of old oak and dust. I pushed a massive wooden wine rack aside, revealing a heavy iron door built directly into the stone foundation. I spun the rusted wheel, throwing my entire body weight into it. The door groaned open, revealing a pitch-black, narrow dirt tunnel. I ushered my daughters inside, one by one. Marcus stumbled in behind them, still clutching his bleeding shoulder. "You are not coming with us, Marcus," I said coldly, pointing my gun at his chest. He fell to his knees, begging for his life in the dark. "I will hold them off, boss," Marcus cried, turning back toward the stairs. "Let me die with at least a shred of honor." I did not argue with him. I stepped into the tunnel and slammed the heavy iron door shut behind us. We walked blindly through the dark earth for what felt like miles. The air grew thick and heavy with moisture. Suddenly, Emma stopped walking and tugged firmly on Claire's skirt. My youngest daughter pointed a tiny, trembling finger toward the tunnel ceiling. Hidden in the darkness, a small digital timer blinked with bright red numbers.
