Chapter 5 - The Siege of the Vault
The underground vault was built thirty feet beneath the estate’s foundations. Encased in six inches of solid titanium and concrete, it was equipped with its own air filtration system, medical bay, and bank of security monitors displaying live camera feeds from every inch of the grounds.
Viktor slammed the heavy steel door shut, turning a massive mechanical wheel until four massive locking bolts clicked into place.
The silence inside the vault was deafening.
The roar of automatic weapons, the shattering of glass, and the thud of grenade detonations were reduced to tiny, distant vibrations felt through the concrete floor.
I sat on a leather cot in the center of the room, holding Rose, who was crying loudly, terrified by the sudden noise and chaos. I unbuttoned my top, pulling her close to nurse her, using my own body and soft whispers to soothe her terror.
"Shh... it’s okay, Rose," I whimpered, tears spilling over my lashes as I looked up at the wall of security monitors. "Daddy is fighting for us. It’s okay..."
Viktor stood near the control console, his weapon drawn, his eyes fixed on the camera feeds.
On the screens, I watched a nightmare unfold in real time.
Dozens of men dressed in black tactical gear had breached the north perimeter wall, throwing smoke grenades and firing automatic weapons. But Nathan’s men were not caught unprepared. From hidden pillboxes and reinforced balcony positions, Nathan’s guards returned fire with lethal, coordinated precision.
In the center of the main foyer, Nathan was a force of terrifying nature.
Moving with lethal efficiency, he moved through the shadows of his own home like a demon. Every burst of his rifle dropped an intruder. When two mercenaries flanked him near the grand fireplace, Nathan closed the distance in a heart-stopping display of hand-to-hand brutal force, disarming the first man and using him as a shield before driving a tactical blade into the second man's throat.
My breath caught in my throat as I watched him on the screen. He was ruthless. He was terrifying. He was a monster to his enemies.
And yet, every move he made was designed to keep those men away from the elevator shaft that led down to this vault.
He was fighting for his daughter.
He was fighting for me.
Suddenly, the monitor showing the main foyer went dark with static. One by one, the camera feeds began cutting out as the intruders blew out power lines and security junctions.
"They’ve cut the main power feed," Viktor muttered, stepping toward the vault door control panel. "Backup generator is active, but internal communications are down."
For forty-five grueling minutes, we sat in near-total dark, illuminated only by the red emergency lights of the vault. The vibrations through the floor slowed, then stopped altogether.
Silence returned.
I stood up, holding a now-sleeping Rose against my shoulder, my heart pounding against my ribs like a trapped bird. "Is it over?"
Viktor held up a hand, signaling for absolute quiet. He pressed his ear against the cold steel of the vault door.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
Three heavy metallic knocks sounded on the outside of the door.
A pause. Then two lighter knocks.
Viktor exhaled a breath he seemed to have been holding for an hour. He stepped forward and grabbed the heavy mechanical wheel, spinning it back until the titanium bolts disengaged with a loud hissed release of pneumatic pressure.
The heavy door swung open slowly.
Nathan stood in the doorway.
He was drenched in rain and blood. His vest was scorched, his face covered in soot, and a deep cut bled freely over his left eyebrow. His tactical rifle hung from its sling over his shoulder, his breathing heavy and ragged.
He stepped into the vault, his steel-gray eyes sweeping over the room until they landed on me and Rose.
When he saw that we were untouched, the lethal, terrifying tension in his frame visibly dissolved. He dropped his weapon onto the floor, took three heavy steps forward, and pulled both me and Rose into his arms.
His body was hot, smelling of gunpowder, rain, and blood. I didn't pull away. I buried my face against his neck, my arms wrapping around his waist as I held his daughter securely between us.
"It’s done," Nathan rasped into my hair, his body trembling with spent adrenaline. "The estate is secure. Moretti’s strike team is dead."
"Are you hurt?" I sobbed, pulling back slightly to look at the blood running down his face.
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Nathan didn't look at his wound. He raised a hand, his calloused thumb gently brushing a tear from my eye, his gaze intense enough to burn through me.
"I am fine, Elena," Nathan whispered, his voice dangerously soft. "They tried to take my home. They tried to take my child. They tried to take you. Tomorrow, I finish this."
