Chapter 7 - The Breach
At four in the morning, the mansion’s silent alarm tripped.
Ethan woke instantly, his military training taking over before his eyes even fully opened. Beside him, Ava stirred, blinking sleepily in the faint light of the bedroom.
""Ethan? What is it?"" she whispered, sensing the sudden shift in the air.
""Stay in bed. Don't make a sound,"" Ethan ordered in a deadly, low whisper, already pulling on trousers and reaching into the nightstand drawer for his custom Kimber .45 pistol.
Suddenly, the power cut out. The entire mansion plunged into pitch-black darkness.
A split second later, the sharp, deafening chatter of suppressed automatic gunfire echoed from the lower levels. The screams of Ethan’s outer guards were choked off by the muffled thuds of high-caliber rounds.
""Sophie!"" Ava gasped, throwing off the duvet.
""Stay behind me!"" Ethan grabbed Ava’s arm, shoving her toward the reinforced panic room hidden behind the master closet. ""Get inside! Lock the vault from the inside, Ava! I will bring Sophie to you!""
""No! I'm coming with you!"" Ava cried, adrenaline surging through her veins. Her lungs, freshly healed by weeks of experimental therapy, pulled in deep, steady breaths without coughing.
Ethan didn't have time to argue. He racked the slide of his pistol, kicked open the bedroom door, and stepped into the hallway just as two masked men in tactical gear rounded the stairs. Ethan fired three rapid shots. Double-tap to the chest, one to the head. Both men crumpled instantly to the floor.
Ethan sprinted toward Sophie’s bedroom down the hall, Ava right on his heels. But when he kicked open his daughter’s door, his blood ran cold.
The window was shattered. Snow was whipping into the room, coating the pink ruffled bedspread in white powder. Sophie’s bed was empty, her stuffed bear abandoned on the floor beside a spent brass casing.
""Daddy!"" a muffled scream drifted up from the courtyard below.
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Ethan rushed to the broken window. In the courtyard, illuminated by flares, Marco Moretti stood surrounded by six heavily armed mercenaries. Marco held a sobbing Sophie under one arm, a gun pressed directly to the little girl’s temple.
""Looking for your princess, Whitaker?!"" Marco screamed up into the blizzard, his voice manic and triumphant. ""Throw down your weapon and walk down here alone! If I see a single bodyguard twitch, I blow her brains across the ice!""
