Chapter 10 - The Trojan Horse
Three days of eerie, suffocating quiet passed over the Mercer estate. The security systems remained at DEFCON 1, with motion sensors sweeping the perimeter and thermal cameras tracking every shadow in the surrounding woods. Yet, no attacks came. No encrypted threats arrived. It was the kind of unnatural stillness that preceded a catastrophic hurricane.
It was midnight when the alarms in the eastern perimeter control room suddenly flatlined.
In the master surveillance suite, the head of security stared in horror at the main console as the green status lights flickered and died one by one. "Sir! We've lost signal on cameras four through twelve! Main power to the outer gates has been cut!"
Before the guard could reach for his emergency broadcast mic, a muffled thud echoed through the ventilation shafts. A thick, odorless gas hissed softly from the ceiling vents of the ground-floor corridors. Within seconds, the elite guards patrolling the halls swayed on their feet, their eyes rolling back as they collapsed unconscious onto the marble floor.
Up in the East Wing, Willow bolted awake in her bed, her instincts screaming that something was fundamentally wrong. The silence of the mansion was too heavy, too deliberate. She threw off the heavy duvet, pulled on a dark hoodie and combat boots, and slipped out into the corridor.
Across the hall, Mia’s door was wide open.
"Mia?" Willow whispered frantically, rushing into the empty bedroom. The bed was unmade, but the window leading out to the private balcony was unlatched, the sheer curtains billowing inward from the cold night wind.
Panic seized Willow’s throat. She rushed to the balcony rail and looked down, but before she could spot anything, a heavy hand clamped firmly over her mouth from behind, and a strong arm wrapped around her waist, dragging her back into the shadows of the room.
"Hush. Don't make a sound," a deep, familiar voice hissed into her ear.
Willow stopped struggling and elbowed backward, spinning around to find Josiah standing there. His face was smeared with black tactical paint, his breathing ragged, and his eyes wild with a mixture of rage and terror. He had a suppressed submachine gun slung across his chest.
"They took her," Josiah rasped, his voice barely audible above the wind. "Rostov’s men bypassed the primary perimeter using an old drainage tunnel beneath the cliff. They used a chemical sedative through the HVAC system and grabbed Mia while she was asleep."
Willow’s heart stopped. All the air left her lungs. "How... how did they get past your security?"
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"An inside leak," Josiah growled, his jaw clenching so hard a vein throbbed violently at his temple. "One of my senior captains took a bribe from Rostov to disable the sector-four firewalls. He's already dead, but that doesn't bring my daughter back."
Josiah looked down at Willow, his dark eyes burning with an intense, desperate fire. "Rostov sent a direct transmission to my private terminal five minutes ago. He wants an exchange. My entire distribution network, all offshore accounts signed over to the Iron Vipers... and you, Willow. He wants you delivered to the old abandoned shipyard on the South Pier by 3:00 AM, or he executes Mia."
