Chapter 6 - The Breach
"Stay here! Lock the door!" Dominic ordered instantly, his warm demeanor vanishing in a fraction of a second, replaced by lethal instinct.
He pulled a sleek black handgun from a hidden holster inside his waistband, racked the slide with a cold click, and sprinted out into the hallway.
Noah woke up instantly, letting out a blood-curdling scream as the red lights flashed rhythmically across his darkened room.
Clara rushed into the closet, gathering the terrified boy into her arms. "I'm here, Noah! I'm right here! You're safe!" She held him tightly, pressing his face against her neck to block out the flashing red lights while she scrambled to slide the heavy deadbolt shut on the nursery door.
Outside, the estate descended into total chaos.
Shouts echoed down the long corridors, followed by the sharp, terrifying crack of gunfire exchange near the north wing. The mansion’s private security detail was engaging intruders.
Clara sat on the floor with her back against the heavy oak door, holding Noah as he wept hysterically. "It's okay, baby, it's okay," she whispered over and over, though her own heart was hammering wildly against her ribs.
Suddenly, heavy, hurried footsteps approached the nursery door.
Someone rattled the brass doorknob violently.
"Clara! Open the door!" a voice shouted from the other side.
It was Mrs. Hargrove.
"Mrs. Hargrove?" Clara called out, keeping her body shielded over Noah. "What's happening?"
"The perimeter was breached! Armed men are inside the house!" Mrs. Hargrove yelled frantically through the wood. "Mr. Vale instructed me to take you and Noah through the service elevator to the underground panic room! Open up, quickly!"
Clara reached for the deadbolt, ready to turn it. But as her hand touched the cold metal, a sudden thought struck her like lightning.
How did Mrs. Hargrove get to the second floor so fast if the breach was in the north wing? And why wasn't she with the security team?
Clara pulled her hand back from the lock. "Mrs. Hargrove... where is Mr. Vale?"
"He's downstairs holding off the attackers! We don't have time for this, girl! Open the door right now!" Mrs. Hargrove's voice had lost its usual polished tone—it was sharp, demanding, and edged with panic.
Noah suddenly pulled back from Clara’s chest. He looked at the locked door, his face pale as chalk, and shook his head frantically.
"No..." Noah whimpered, pointing at the door. "No... lady... bad..."
Clara’s blood ran cold.
"Noah," Clara whispered, gripping his tiny shoulders. "Did she... was she there the night your mother died?"
Noah didn't answer with words. He violently nodded his head, tears streaming down his face as he covered his ears.
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Outside, the doorknob rattled again, followed by the heavy sound of a man’s voice speaking low through a radio transceiver. "She's not opening it, Hargrove. Use the master key."
Clara’s eyes widened in horror. It wasn't a rescue. It was an extraction.
