CHAPTER 13: THE SIEGE OF THE SANCTUARY
CHAPTER 13: THE SIEGE OF THE SANCTUARY
The tactical breach occurred at precisely 3:14 AM.
The power to the entire ridge died instantly. The familiar, comforting hum of the house's heating system vanished, replaced by the biting cold of the mountain air.
But my grandfather had built this house to survive a war.
The independent battery backup kicked in silently, illuminating the narrow hallways with a faint, tactical red light.
"Claire, take Ethan into the storm cellar beneath the pantry," I ordered, my voice a calm, practiced whisper as I strapped on my tactical vest.
She didn't argue. She didn't panic. She picked up our sleeping son and vanished down the hidden concrete hatch.
James Carter stood by the kitchen door, his night-vision goggles resting over his eyes.
"Two targets approaching from the water," James reported through his earpiece. "Professional scuba insertion. They aren't local mercenaries, Daniel. These are Tier-One operators."
The glass of the terrace didn't shatter. It hissed.
A localized thermite cutter was eating through the reinforced steel locks of the frame.
I took my position at the top of the stairs, my rifle raised, my breathing slow and deliberate.
May you like
The door swung open, letting in the damp lake mist.
Two shapes dressed in solid black tactical gear stepped into the red-lit foyer, their weapons raised with lethal, synchronized precision.
