Chapter 6 - Fortress Under Siege
The emergency red lights bathed the master bedroom in a bloody, crimson glow.
Lila clung to Mara's neck, her eyes wide with terror as she felt the violent vibrations vibrating through the floorboards.
Even through her damaged hearing, the concussive force of automatic gunfire was rattling her small bones.
Damian slid open a concealed floor panel beneath the Persian rug, revealing a small armory of tactical rifles and ceramic body armor.
Despite the agonizing burn lingering in his heart, he moved with lethal precision.
He racked the slide of an assault rifle and tossed a compact nine-millimeter handgun into Mara’s lap.
"Do you know how to use this?" Damian demanded, strapping a Kevlar vest over his dark dress shirt.
"No!" Mara cried, staring at the weapon as if it were a venomous snake.
"Point it at the center of any man who walks through that door without my voice," Damian said coldly.
"Pull the trigger until it stops clicking.
Understood?"
Mara looked down at Lila’s trembling form, swallowed her tears, and nodded with fierce maternal desperation.
"Understood."
Damian keyed his radio headset, trying to reach the gatehouse.
"Marco, report.
Where are the outer sentries?"
Static hissed through the earpiece, followed by Viktor’s mocking, triumphant laughter.
"Marco is currently feeding the fish in the Patapsco River, dear cousin," Viktor purred through the radio.
"Your Chicago friends were intercepted at the toll plaza forty minutes ago.
You are alone in that room, Damian.
Surrender the syndicate ledgers and sign the transfer documents, and I might let the maid take the mute brat out through the service gate."
Damian didn't bother responding.
He smashed the radio beneath the heel of his combat boot.
He pulled a small bronze key from around his neck and unlocked an iron door hidden behind the walk-in wardrobe.
"The escape tunnel leads to the boat house on the creek," Damian whispered urgently, shoving Mara toward the entrance.
"Run.
Do not look back, and do not stop until you reach the highway."
"What about you?" Mara asked, grabbing his sleeve.
"You can barely breathe!"
"I am the master of Grayhaven," Damian growled, his lips curling into a feral, wolfish sneer.
"I do not run from traitors in my own home."
Before Mara could take a single step into the tunnel, a thunderous explosion blew the bedroom’s double oak doors off their hinges.
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Wood shrapnel rained down like razor blades.
Two masked mercenaries in full tactical gear poured through the smoke, their rifle barrels pointed directly at the floor where Lila lay exposed.
