Chapter 8 - The Breach
The silent understanding between us was shattered six seconds later.
BOOM.
A low, heavy explosion vibrated through the floorboards beneath our feet, followed instantly by the sharp, metallic chatter of automatic rifle fire erupting near the south gates.
The security lights outside the window flickered once, twice, and died, plunging the dressing room into complete darkness, save for the pale green glow of the emergency exit signs.
"Leo!" Victor shouted into the radio clipped to his collar, his hand immediately releasing my arm as he pulled his heavy semi-automatic pistol from his shoulder holster.
"They breached the south perimeter!" Leo’s voice came back through the speaker, distorted by heavy static and the sound of breaking glass. "Marcus brought thirty men! They’ve cut the main power lines and bypassed the automated security gates!"
"Where is Finn?" Victor demanded, stepping between me and the reinforced door.
"He's in the interior suite! Marko is with him!"
"Get the secondary transport team to the subterranean tunnel now!" Victor ordered. He snapped the radio shut, turned to me in the dim green light, and shoved the velvet box with the Canadian passport into my hands. "Take the back stairs to the basement. Leo is waiting near the wine cellar. The helicopter is landing on the north ridge in seven minutes."
"No!" I shouted, dropping the box onto the desk. "I'm going to Finn!"
"Evelyn, listen to me!" Victor grabbed my jaw, his thumb pressing hard against my cheekbone, forcing me to look directly into his fierce, glowing grey eyes. "Moretti isn't here for the estate! He’s here for YOU and the flash drive! If you stay in this room, you put Finn directly in the crosshairs!"
"If I leave, he will panic!"
"I will carry him to the tunnel myself!" Victor promised, his voice carrying the weight of an absolute, unyielding vow. "I give you my life on it, Evelyn! I will bring him to Canada to meet you! But you have to move NOW!"
Before I could answer, the reinforced wooden door connecting the dressing room to the main hallway burst open with a violent shower of wood splinters.
A broad-shouldered man in a black tactical vest stepped through the dust, a short-barreled assault rifle raised to his shoulder.
"Down!" Victor roared.
He shoved me violently behind the heavy mahogany desk a split second before the room erupted into a deafening storm of noise and fire.
THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD.
Plaster exploded off the walls, heavy cedar paneling tore into sharp splinters, and the air instantly filled with the sharp, blinding sting of cordite and dry wall dust.
Victor fired three rapid shots over the top of the desk.
The gunman took two heavy rounds to his tactical plate, stumbled backward into the corridor, and fell with a heavy, metallic crash against the marble floorboards.
Victor didn't hesitate. He grabbed my wrist, yanked me up from behind the desk, and dragged me through the connecting side door into the narrow interior hallway that led toward Finn’s bedroom.
The hallway was filled with thick, grey smoke. Sirens were wailing through the emergency backup speakers—that high, mechanical screech that Finn hated more than anything on earth.
"Finn!" I screamed, tearing my arm from Victor’s grip and sprinting toward the interior bedroom door.
The door was wide open. Marko was lying on his back near the threshold, a dark stain spreading across his bulletproof vest, his shotgun resting uselessly three feet from his outstretched fingers.
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And sitting beneath the small writing desk in the corner of the room, his knees pulled tight against his chest, his hands pressed so hard against his ears that his ears were turning purple, was Finn.
"Harper!" he screamed through the smoke, his eyes wide with absolute, blind terror. "HARPER!"
