Chapter 6 - The Siege of the West Wing
"They're inside," Adrian said instantly, his entire demeanor shifting from broken man to lethal predator in a fraction of a second.
He stood up, reached under his pillow, and pulled out a sleek black Sig Sauer 9mm pistol. He checked the magazine with a sharp, professional click.
"Stay here," Adrian ordered, moving toward the door.
"Like hell I will!" Claire snapped, jumping up from her chair. "Your sons are in the east wing! If Dominic is here for them, that's where he's going first!"
Adrian paused, looking back at her through the dark red glow of the emergency lights. A rare look of deep respect flared in his eyes. "Follow me. Stay low."
They moved through the pitch-black corridors like two shadows. The grand mansion, once cold and imposing, now felt like a labyrinth of lethal turns.
Down on the first floor, the heavy crash of broken glass echoed through the foyer, followed by the muffled, silenced pop of gunfire.
THWIP. THWIP. THWIP.
Adrian’s security team was engaging the intruders down in the courtyard, but the tactical breach was fast, precise, and heavily coordinated.
Claire and Adrian reached the third-floor playroom wing.
Claire threw open the door to the boys' bedroom.
The three boys were huddled together beneath the frame of the heavy oak bed, their dark eyes wide with sheer terror. Leo had a plastic toy sword clutched in his shaking hands.
"Claire!" Mason cried out, his voice cracking as he saw her.
Claire rushed over, dropping to her stomach and pulling all three boys out from under the bed, gathering them into her arms. "Shh, I've got you. I've got you, boys. You're safe."
"Donovan, get them into the panic room behind the wardrobe!" Adrian commanded, standing by the bedroom door, his gun raised toward the hallway.
Claire dragged the boys toward the massive, carved oak wardrobe at the back of the room. She reached inside, finding the hidden panel Adrian had mentioned, and slammed her palm against the biometric pad.
The back of the wardrobe slid open, revealing a small, reinforced room lined with emergency supplies and monitor screens.
"In! All three of you, in!" Claire instructed, shoving Leo and Julian inside.
Before Mason could enter, a heavy boot kicked the bedroom door wide open, shattering the lock frame.
A tall man dressed in full black tactical gear, carrying a suppressed submachine gun, stepped into the room.
"Clear!" the gunman shouted into his radio headset, raising his weapon directly toward Adrian.
BANG!
Adrian fired first. The 9mm bullet hit the attacker precisely in the shoulder, knocking him backward against the doorframe.
But a second attacker stepped up right behind him, sweeping his submachine gun toward Claire and the boys.
Claire didn't hesitate. She threw her body over Mason, shielding the six-year-old boy with her back as the gunman squeezed the trigger.
THWIP-THWIP-THWIP!
Bullets tore into the heavy wooden frame of the wardrobe inches above Claire's head, showering her with splinters and plaster dust.
With a roar of pure, unadulterated fury, Adrian lunged forward. He slammed his body into the second attacker, driving him through the doorway and out into the marble hallway.
The sound of violent, hand-to-hand combat echoed down the corridor—the heavy impact of fists, the cracking of bones, and the desperate struggle for weapon control.
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Claire didn't wait to see who won. She scooped Mason into her arms, scrambled inside the reinforced panic room, and hit the manual lock button on the inside wall.
The heavy steel door slammed shut with a deep, hydraulic HISS, sealing them into total darkness.
