Chapter 4 - The Strike at Midnight
By the end of the second week, the heavy winter sky above the North Shore turned to dark, bruised purple, bringing a bitter coastal storm that battered Blackwood Manor with heavy snow and howling winds.
Inside the house, the atmosphere had grown increasingly tense.
Armed guards moved through the hallways with a quiet, urgent purpose. Cassian was constantly on his satellite phone, his expression growing darker with every passing hour. Adrian spent most of his time locked in his private study on the third floor, holding low-toned meetings with captains from his distribution networks across New England.
Mara sat in the gallery, her scalpel held lightly in her hand, carefully restoring the intricate drapery of Saint Sebastian’s robes. Her shoulder was healing well, though the scar would remain—a smooth, pale line on her left collarbone.
The heavy double doors of the gallery opened, and Noah stepped inside, holding a set of colored pencils and a pad of drawing paper.
"Mara?" Noah asked, his voice timid. "Can I draw in here with you? Dad is busy and my tutor had to go home because of the snowstorm."
Mara set her scalpel down instantly, offering a warm smile. "Of course you can, Noah. Pull up a chair."
Noah dragged a small wooden chair next to her work table and sat down, spreading his pencils out. He began drawing a picture of a large, black castle surrounded by high walls, with three figures standing on the roof—a tall man, a small boy, and a woman with long dark hair.
Mara looked down at the drawing, a soft warmth blossoming in her chest. "Is that us?"
"Yeah," Noah said, pointing his pencil at the figures. "That's Dad, that's me, and that's you. You're holding a paintbrush."
"I love it," Mara said softly, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. "We look very fierce."
Suddenly, the lights in the gallery flickered violently, dimmed, and went out entirely.
The room plunged into near-total darkness, illuminated only by the faint, eerie blue reflection of the snowstorm outside the skylights.
Noah dropped his pencil, scrambling out of his chair and burying his face in Mara’s lap. "Mara! What happened?"
"It's just the storm, sweetheart," Mara said quickly, wrapping her good arm securely around his shoulders. "The power probably went out. The backup generators will kick in a second."
Five seconds passed. Ten seconds.
The backup generators did not turn on.
Instead, a low, blaring klaxon began to echo through the distant corridors of the manor—the internal security breach alarm.
Mara’s blood ran cold.
Before she could react, the gallery doors flew open with a loud thud.
A tall figure stepped into the room, holding a heavy tactical flashlight and a silenced submachine gun.
"Mara! Noah!" Cassian’s voice barked through the dark. He swept the beam of light across the room until it landed on them. "Get down! Now!"
"Cassian, what's going on?" Mara yelled, pulling Noah beneath the heavy oak work table.
"The perimeter gate was breached," Cassian said grimly, moving to the gallery doors and locking the heavy iron bolts. "Two vehicles came through the snowdrift. It's Moretti's men. They cut the primary power lines and jammed the emergency generator relays."
Noah began to sob hysterically under the table, holding tightly to Mara’s sweater. "Mara, I'm scared!"
"Shh, baby, I've got you," Mara whispered, pulling him against her chest, her mind racing in absolute panic. "Cassian, where is Adrian?"
"The boss is upstairs in the east wing clearing the hallway," Cassian said, checking his weapon's magazine in the dark. "He sent me to secure you two and move you to the safe room in the cellar."
A loud, metallic explosion echoed from the floor below, followed immediately by the rapid, rhythmic chatter of automatic gunfire tearing through the grand foyer.
The sound of shattering glass, shouting men, and heavy boots echoed through the ancient oak floors of Blackwood Manor.
"They're inside!" Cassian hissed. He reached into his tactical vest, pulled out a compact 9mm pistol, and racked the slide, handing it to Mara over the edge of the table.
Mara stared at the weapon in shock. "What? I don't know how to use a gun!"
"You learn fast tonight, Miss Ellis," Cassian snapped, his flashlight beam flickering toward the gallery doors. "Safety is off. Point and pull. If anyone other than the boss or me comes through that door, you shoot them. I'm going to clear the hallway to the stairs."
"Cassian, wait!" Mara pleaded.
"Stay under the table!" Cassian commanded, and he unlocked the bolt, slipping out into the dark hallway like a shadow.
Mara sat in the pitch-black gallery, holding the cold, heavy iron of the handgun in her trembling right hand, while Noah wept silently against her ribs. The sound of gunfire grew louder, closer, moving up the central staircase.
Pop-pop-pop!
The sharp, terrifying cracks of close-quarters combat echoed down the corridor outside the gallery. Mara heard a heavy body slam against the wall outside, followed by a harsh, foreign curse in Italian.
Someone was right outside the door.
Mara raised the gun with her shaking hand, pointing it directly at the entrance. Her heart was beating so fast she felt sick, her breath coming in shallow, frantic gasps.
The heavy iron door handle jiggled.
Someone was trying to force it open from the hall.
"Noah," Mara whispered, her voice barely audible over her own blood pounding in her ears. "Close your eyes and cover your ears. Do it now."
Noah obeyed instantly, pressing his face into her lap and covering his ears with his small hands.
The heavy iron lock on the door creaked under immense pressure. A loud CRACK echoed as the wood splintered around the frame.
The door swung open.
A tall man wearing a black tactical mask and night-vision goggles stepped into the gallery, his assault rifle raised.
"Clear!" the intruder shouted into a shoulder radio.
Mara didn't hesitate. She squeezed the trigger.
BANG!
The recoil of the heavy pistol snapped her hand back violently. The bullet struck the wooden frame inches from the man's head, spraying sharp wooden splinters into his face.
"AH! Fuck!" the man shrieked, stumbling backward into the hall, clutching his eyes.
Before he could raise his weapon to fire back into the dark room, a shadowy figure materialized behind him in the hallway.
A large, calloused hand grabbed the intruder by his tactical vest, slamming him backward against the gallery wall with bone-shattering force. A flash of silver gleamed in the dim light, followed by a swift, brutal strike.
The intruder slumped to the floor, motionless.
Adrian Vale stepped through the ruined doorway into the gallery.
He was covered in snow and soot, his white dress shirt torn at the shoulder, a smear of dark blood running along his jawline. In his right hand, he held a dark combat knife; in his left, a heavy tactical handgun.
His silver eyes swept through the darkness until they locked onto Mara, who was still crouching beneath the table with the gun pointed at his chest.
"Mara," Adrian said, his voice terrifyingly calm amid the chaos. "Lower the weapon. It's me."
Mara’s hand trembled violently. The gun slowly slipped from her fingers, clattering onto the hardwood floor.
A wave of pure, overwhelming relief washed over her, so intense she felt lightheaded.
Adrian dropped to his knees in front of the table, pulling Noah out from under the wood and crushing the crying boy into his chest. "I've got you, son. I've got you. You're safe."
Noah sobbed wildly against his father's neck, holding on with all his strength.
Adrian reached out his other arm, grabbing Mara by the back of her neck and pulling her toward him until her forehead rested against his firm, blood-stained shoulder.
"You held the door," Adrian whispered into her dark hair, his voice thick with fierce, protective pride. "You protected my son again."
"I... I tried to shoot him," Mara whimpered, her entire body shaking as the adrenaline began to leave her system.
"You did good, Mara," Adrian murmured, his hand cradling the back of her head, his fingers entwining in her hair. "You did so good. Now let me finish this."
He pulled back, looking into her terrified eyes. "Cassian is waiting at the end of the hall. The cellar safe room is secured. Take Noah and go. Now."
Mara looked into Adrian's eyes and saw the terrifying, unstoppable fury rising within him. The Wraith was fully awakened, and God help any man who stood in his path tonight.
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"Be careful, Adrian," she whispered.
Adrian offered a dark, lethal smile that made the air freeze in her lungs. "They brought a war to my home, Mara. I am going to give them an execution."
