Chapter 5 - The Grid Goes Dark
The emergency backup generators kicked in three seconds later, bathing the hallway in a harsh, industrial amber glow.
Vincent moved with terrifying speed, crossing the room in two strides and slamming the heavy oak door shut, throwing the mechanical deadbolt into place. He gestured sharply for Nema to stay low against the far wall behind the heavy mahogany desk.
"Stay down," Vincent muttered, drawing his weapon with practiced, silent fluidity. "Do not move, do not answer the door, and if the glass shatters, crawl toward the ensuite bathroom."
"How many?" Nema whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
"At least three," Vincent replied, his ear pressed against the wood of the door. "Professional entry. They bypassed the biometric perimeter without triggering the silent alarm, which means someone on the inside gave them the override codes."
Someone on the inside.
The words echoed in Nema’s mind. Dom had said Tommy was his right hand for seven years. If Tommy had built part of this security infrastructure, he would know every blind spot, every workaround, and every backup protocol in the mansion.
A sharp, metallic scrape echoed from the hallway outside.
Clack. Click.
The smart-lock on the door whined as an external bypass tool attempted to force the electronic latch.
Vincent raised his weapon, his breathing slow and controlled. He didn't hesitate. When the door handle began to turn, Vincent fired two suppressed rounds straight through the wooden paneling near the lock mechanism.
Puff-puff.
A muffled curse echoed from the hallway, followed by the heavy thud of a body hitting the Persian rug outside.
"Contact!" a harsh voice shouted from down the corridor, followed instantly by the deafening roar of automatic gunfire chewing through the drywall.
Wood splinters exploded into Nema’s suite like a shower of needles. She ducked behind the desk, pulling her hands over her head as plaster dust filled the air, coating her hair and clothes in a fine white powder.
"Vincent!" she yelled over the din of gunfire.
"We need to move!" Vincent shouted back, firing three return shots through the splintered remains of the door before grabbing Nema by the collar of her jacket and hauling her toward the ensuite bathroom.
They scrambled through the tiled doorway just as a flashbang grenade landed on the bedroom carpet.
BOOM.
A blinding white flash illuminated the suite, followed by a concussive shockwave that rattled the plumbing and shattered the remaining glass windows.
Vincent shoved Nema into the bathtub, covering her body with his own as heavy boots stomped across the ruined bedroom floor.
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"Clear the bedroom!" a gruff voice barked. "Check the perimeter bath!"
Nema held her breath, her fingers digging into the cold porcelain of the tub. She looked up at Vincent. His face was entirely calm, his weapon locked and loaded, waiting for the exact second the bathroom door swung open.
