Chapter 5 - The Shattered Alliance
Two seconds of crackling static stretched into an eternity. Then, a sharp breath came through the receiver, accompanied by the dull *thud* of a body hitting the floor and the ejection of an empty ammunition casing.
*“Claire?”* Luca’s voice was strained, breathless. *“I told you not to use the channel unless—”*
“Dante is with them!” I interrupted, keeping my voice low but frantic. “Dante Rossi! I’m looking at the hallway monitors right now. He freed Vanessa from the west wing. He’s leading six men up the servant’s staircase behind the portrait gallery. They’re flanking you, Luca!”
A heavy silence fell over the radio. In the green glow of the panic room, Sofia sat with her hands clasped in silent, desperate prayer.
*“Confirm visual,”* Luca commanded, his tone dropping into a terrifyingly steady calm.
“Confirmed,” I said, staring at camera four. “He’s wearing full tactical gear, but he took his visor off to check the stairwell door. He has the scar on his jaw. He just gave the signal to clear the second-floor mezzanine. If you’re in the grand ballroom, they’re right above you!”
*“Understood,”* Luca said softly. *“Claire... stay away from the door. No matter what you hear outside.”*
“Luca, wait—”
The line went dead with a click.
On the monitor screens, the feed flickered. Camera four suddenly went dark as a gloved hand spray-painted the lens. Then camera five died. Then camera two.
One by one, our eyes on the mansion were blinded.
Within the panic room, the silence returned, thick and suffocating. Sofia pulled me down beside her chair, wrapping her thin arm around my neck, holding me as if I were her own daughter. We sat in the dark green gloom, counting the seconds by the rhythmic hum of the ventilation fan.
Five minutes passed. Ten minutes.
Then, the heavy sound of footsteps approached the outside of the steel door.
Sofia stiffened. My breath caught in my throat.
Someone was standing right on the other side of the oak bookcase. A metallic tool scraped against the frame, probing for the seams of the hidden door.
“Claire?” a voice called out through the steel. It was smooth, familiar, and dripping with honeyed warmth.
Dante Rossi.
“Claire, open the door, sweetheart,” Dante said, his voice muffled but audible. “Luca sent me. He cleared the house, but he took a bullet to the shoulder. He’s bleeding out down in the foyer. We need Mrs. Moretti’s blood type for an immediate transfusion before the medevac gets here. Open up.”
Sofia gripped my hand, shaking her head violently. Her eyes were wide with warning.
I remembered Luca’s exact words.
*The sparrows sleep at dawn.*
I swallowed, stepped up to the reinforced speaker grate beside the lock, and spoke in a trembling, naive voice. “Mr. Rossi? Is Luca really hurt?”
“Yes, Claire. It’s bad,” Dante urged, his tone growing slightly more demanding. “Hit the override release on the panel to your left. We don't have much time. Every second counts.”
“What did Luca tell you before he collapsed?” I asked, pretending to sound like a panic-stricken girl on the verge of tears. “He gave me a phrase... he told me not to open the door unless you said it.”
A beat of hesitation. Outside, Dante cursed softly under his breath.
“He didn't have time to give me a code, Claire!” Dante snapped, his patience evaporating. “He was choking on his own blood! If you don't open this damn door right now, Luca is going to die, and his blood will be on your hands! Open it!”
Sofia reached up, her fingers moving deliberately in front of my face.
*Do not answer the wolf,* she signed. *Let the hunter find him.*
I stepped back from the grate, crossing my arms, remaining completely silent.
Outside, the facade dropped entirely.
“Bitch!” Dante kicked the heavy bookcase frame with a thud that vibrated through the steel plate. “Bring the thermal lance! Burn through the hinges! We take the old woman and gut the maid!”
The screech of a metal grinder echoed through the wall. Sparks hissed as intense heat began to chew at the perimeter of the reinforced door. The temperature inside the small vault began to rise.
Sofia and I backed away toward the rear cot, holding each other tightly. I looked at the medical supplies on the counter—scalpels, surgical scissors, alcohol. If they breached that door, I had already decided I wouldn't go down without taking an eye out.
Then, from the corridor outside, came the sound of utter devastation.
May you like
It started not with gunfire, but with the heavy, splintering crash of a wooden beam, followed by an explosion that shook the entire foundation of the mansion.
---
