Chapter 3 - The Siege of Walker ManorFire and BloodIn less than three seconds, Dominic transformed back into the ruthless predator.
He pulled a silenced 9mm sidearm from his shoulder holster, racking the slide with a sharp, lethal metallic click.
"Get into the panic room," Dominic ordered, his voice dripping with authority as he grabbed Emily by the arm, helping her stand while she cradled Maya tightly against her chest.
"Dominic, what’s happening?!" Emily’s heart was hammering against her ribs, panic threatening to paralyze her legs.
"Marcone realized where I took you," Dominic said grimly, leading her toward the rear wall of the nursery. He pressed a hidden panel behind a painting of a silver forest. A section of the stone wall slid open, revealing a small, reinforced vault lined with steel plating, emergency supplies, and security monitors. "Get inside. Lock the heavy wheel from the interior. Do not open it for anyone except me or Viktor."
"Dominic... please be careful," Emily blurted out, her voice cracking.
Dominic stopped in the doorway, turning his head to look at her. The harsh red alarm lights reflected in his dark eyes. He reached out, cupping her cheek for a brief, intense second.
"They won't get past me," he vowed softly. "Keep my daughter safe."
The steel door sealed shut with a heavy pneumatic hiss, locking Emily and Maya inside the dark, soundproof vault.
On the wall-mounted security monitor, Emily watched in breathless terror as the madness outside unfolded.
Three heavy armored trucks had rammed through the southern iron gates, spilling dozens of heavily armed men in tactical gear onto the manicured lawns. Gunfire lit up the foggy night sky like terrible lightning. Tracers zipped through the air, shattering the glass of the grand conservatory.
Dominic moved through the manor like a shadow of absolute death. He didn't hide behind his men; he led them from the front. His movements were fluid, precise, and horrifyingly efficient. Every shot he fired dropped an attacker. He moved through the marble hallways he called home, defending it with the cold savagery of a dragon protecting its nest.
Inside the vault, Maya began to cry, frightened by the muffled vibrations running through the concrete.
"Shh... shh, sweet girl," Emily whispered frantically, sitting on the small cot and pulling Maya close, rocking her back and forth. "I'm here. I’ve got you. Your daddy is fighting for us. Shh..."
For forty-five agonizing minutes, the battle raged. Emily watched the monitors as Dominic’s security force systematically wiped out the invading force. But just as the gunfire began to die down, Emily saw something on the monitor that made her blood turn to liquid ice.
A tall, heavy-set man in a dark trench coat—a man with a jagged scar across his throat—had breached the secondary rear entrance of the manor. He was carrying a heavy submachine gun and a tactical torch, moving silently up the servant stairs.
Marco Marcone.
He knew the layout of the house. He wasn't looking for Dominic. He was heading straight for the third floor—straight for the nursery.
Emily’s breath hit her throat like broken glass. She looked at the monitor showing the nursery outside her vault. Marcone kicked the nursery door off its hinges, stepping into the room with a cruel, monstrous grin, his gun raised.
"Dominic!" Marcone yelled into the empty room, his voice picking up through the nursery microphone. "I know the little bastard is here! Come out, come out, little Walker!"
Inside the vault, Emily held Maya tightly, pressing her hand over the baby's mouth gently to muffle any sound.
Marcone began to fire bursts into the closets, tearing the silk curtains and handmade wooden cribs to splinters. He walked toward the wall where the hidden vault panel was located.
"I know you're in there, little lady," Marcone’s voice echoed through the speaker. "The little wet nurse from Chicago! You thought you could hide under Walker’s coat? I killed your husband, I killed your brat twins, and now I’m going to end the Walker line!"
Emily’s eyes narrowed into sharp, blazing points of fire.
Hearing him boast about murdering David, Leo, and Sam wiped away every ounce of fear remaining in her body. The helpless grief that had held her captive for seven months burned away, replaced by a dark, righteous vengeance.
She laid Maya safely in the padded emergency bassinet in the deepest corner of the vault. She reached into the emergency supply locker, pulling out a heavy steel flare gun designed for maritime distress signals.
She loaded a red phosphorous shell into the chamber.
Emily walked to the heavy steel door. She didn't wait for Marcone to find the mechanism. She turned the heavy iron wheel, releasing the lock.
The steel door swung open with a heavy bang.
Marcone turned around, a shock of surprise crossing his ugly face as he raised his submachine gun. "Well, well—"
Emily didn't give him a chance to finish. She raised the flare gun with both hands and pulled the trigger.
BOOM!
A blinding, thousand-degree ball of burning red phosphorous struck Marcone squarely in the center of his chest. The force knocked him backward out of the nursery doorway, his trench coat instantly bursting into flames as he screamed in agony, dropping his weapon to the floor.
Before Marcone could recover, a dark figure materialized out of the smoke in the hallway.
Dominic walked through the fire, his suit torn, blood splattered across his cheek. He picked up Marcone’s dropped weapon, stepped onto the man's burning chest, and looked down at him with eyes devoid of any human mercy.
"That was for David Carter," Dominic said quietly.
THWIP.
Dominic fired a single shot, ending Marco Marcone forever.
Dominic dropped the weapon and rushed into the room, stepping past the flames toward Emily, who stood in the vault doorway, trembling violently, the empty flare gun slipping from her fingers.
Without a word, Dominic pulled her into his arms, crushing her against his chest in a grip so fierce she could barely breathe.
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"You're safe," Dominic breathed into her hair, his chest heaving. "You're safe, Emily. It's over."
Emily buried her face against his neck, sobbing tears of pure, terrifying relief as the sirens of Dominic’s reinforcements finally echoed through the night.
