Chapter 4 - The Siege in the Snow
“Lock down the perimeter! Give them hell!” Julian roared, grabbing a customized SIG MCX from the weapon rack on the wall.
Alarms blared through the lodge. Steel shutters slammed down over the windows. Outside, the night erupted in a deafening chorus of automatic gunfire and explosions.
Julian sprinted up the stairs to the master suite. Elena was already awake, holding Leo tightly to her chest. She had pulled a Glock 19 from the nightstand drawer—Julian had taught her how to shoot years ago.
“They’re here,” she said, her voice shaking but her grip on the weapon steady.
“Stay in the reinforced panic room behind the closet,” Julian ordered, kissing her hard. “Do not open that door for anyone but me. If you hear someone else… shoot through the door.”
He locked them inside and turned back to the hallway just as the front doors of the lodge were blown inward by a C4 charge.
Smoke filled the grand foyer. Julian moved like a shadow, his business ruthlessness translating perfectly to violence. He dropped two mercenaries on the staircase with precise, suppressed headshots.
Marcus and his team were holding the line in the living room, but they were severely outnumbered.
“Julian!” Marcus yelled over the comms. “They’re pushing heavy from the west wing! They brought rocket launchers!”
The floor violently shook as an RPG slammed into the side of the house, blowing out the kitchen. Julian realized they weren't just trying to breach; they were trying to flush them out.
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He fought his way to the west wing, taking down three more cartel hitters in brutal, close-quarters combat. He was bleeding from a graze on his shoulder, his expensive clothes ruined, but he felt nothing but cold, absolute rage. Nobody threatened his wife. Nobody threatened his son.
By dawn, the snow outside was stained red. Over thirty mercenaries lay dead. Victor’s assault had failed, but Julian knew this was only the opening move.
