Chapter 10 - The Siege at the Gates
I spun around on my heel, rushing back through the master bedroom and sprinting down the stairs toward the front foyer with my weapon drawn.
As I reached the grand entryway, the smart-security monitor mounted beside the front door flashed a blinding array of red warning lights.
PERIMETER BREACH: MULTIPLE ZONES COMPROMISED.
I slammed my finger against the exterior camera grid button, splitting the screen into four high-definition live feeds.
My breath caught in my throat.
Swarming up the front driveway were half a dozen unmarked tactical vehicles, their doors flying open to reveal a dozen armed operatives in heavy black combat gear, carrying automatic rifles and breaching equipment. They weren't suburban thugs or local corporate enforcers; they were professional black-ops mercenaries belonging to Julian Vance’s elite strike force.
Standing calmly at the very front of the advancing formation, hands buried casually in the pockets of his tailored charcoal suit, was Julian Vance himself.
He looked directly up at the second-story window where he knew the security camera was mounted, flashing a cold, predatory smile straight into the lens.
He didn't want the corporate accounts anymore. He didn't want the restructuring loans.
He wanted war.
I raised my encrypted burner phone with my left hand, dialing Marcus Vance’s direct emergency extension on speed dial. It rang once before a sharp voice answered.
"Mrs. Hart! Status report! Our sensors indicate a heavy tactical breach at your primary estate!"
"We're under full black-ops siege, Marcus," I said, my voice dropping into a razor-sharp, lethal register as I watched Julian Vance pick up a heavy iron sledgehammer from one of his operatives and walk slowly toward my front door. "Activate the property lockdown protocol. And call the federal tactical response team. Tell them to bring heavy ordnance."
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"Understood," Marcus replied instantly, his tone hardening. "Hold the line, Eleanor. They're not getting past that door."
I clicked off the phone, slid the safety catch off my firearm, and leveled the barrel directly at the center of the heavy oak entryway as the first deafening blow of the sledgehammer slammed against the wood.
