Chapter 4 - The Internal Breach
Before we could execute the takedown on Diane and Vance, the war came to our doorstep.
It was a moonless Thursday night. The security monitors in the east wing flickered, three screens going dead in rapid succession.
I was sitting at the kitchen island reading a book on maritime logistics when the heavy panic alarms began to wail—a low, rhythmic pulse that made the floor vibrate.
Gabriel burst into the kitchen, pulling the slide on a Sig Sauer pistol with a sharp clack. His face was a mask of cold fury.
“We’ve been breached,” Gabriel said, his voice dangerously calm. “Vance didn't wait for our legal move. He sent cleaning crew mercenaries to burn the estate and tie up loose ends.”
“How many?” I asked, standing up.
“Four professionals. They bypassed the front gate sensors.” Gabriel grabbed my arm, steering me toward the pantry. “Get inside the panic room behind the spice rack. Lock it from the inside and don't come out until I unlock it.”
“No,” I said, pulling my arm free.
Gabriel’s eyes flashed. “Nora, this isn't a game. These men kill for a living.”
“And I know this house better than they do,” I retorted, pointing toward the overhead security tablet. “Vance’s men don't know the older wiring layout. The south wing breaker box controls the motion sensors on the perimeter. If I flip it, they’ll think the whole grid went down and funnel through the narrow hallway by the conservatory.”
Gabriel stared at me, weighing the tactical risk in a fraction of a second. The sound of shattered glass echoed from the front foyer—heavy boots hitting the marble.
“If you get caught, I’m putting a bullet in Vance myself,” Gabriel growled. “Move.”
I didn't hesitate. I sprinted down the darkened corridor toward the utility closet, my bare feet silent against the hardwood. Behind me, the sharp pop of silenced gunfire rang out—once, twice.
They’re inside.
I reached the breaker box, wrenched the heavy metal door open, and threw the main switch for the south wing. The mansion plunged into absolute darkness, save for the faint green glow of emergency floor lights.
In the hallway outside the conservatory, I heard a man curse.
“Grid’s dead. Fall back to the corridor!”
I crept behind a velvet drapery near the library doors, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. A man in black tactical gear jogged past my hiding spot, his rifle raised, scanning the shadows.
As he passed, I stepped out silently, lifted a heavy brass floor-standing candelabra from the antique table, and brought it down across the back of his helmet with every ounce of strength I possessed.
He dropped like a stone, his rifle clattering against the parquet floor.
I stood over him, breathing heavily, my hands shaking as I reached down and stripped the sidearm from his tactical holster.
“Nora?” Gabriel’s voice whispered from the corner of the hallway.
I turned, pointing the pistol instinctively before I recognized his silhouette in the dim green emergency light. Gabriel lowered his own weapon, staring at me with an expression that hovered somewhere between sheer disbelief and absolute awe.
“You hit him with a candelabra?” Gabriel asked, a low chuckle escaping his throat.
“It was heavy,” I whispered back, lowering the gun. “Is it over?”
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“Leo’s got the other three tied up in the courtyard,” Gabriel said, stepping close and gently taking the pistol from my trembling fingers. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair away from my forehead. His thumb lingered against my cheek for a second too long. “You are the most dangerous person I’ve ever met, Nora Mercer.”
“You haven't met Diane yet,” I replied dryly.
