Chapter 6 - The Siege Begins
On the south helipad, Julian Sterling froze, his hand still resting on the handle of his garment bag. His mother's voice—booming, crystal-clear, and filled with undeniable command—echoed through the night air, shattering the quiet evening.
"What the..." Julian asserted, turning around.
Before he could process the warning, Marcus Vance drew his suppressed pistol from his jacket, raising it directly toward Julian's head.
"Drop the bag, Mr. Sterling," Marcus said calmly, his face showing no emotion of. "Step away from the aircraft."
The helicopter pilot, sensing immediate danger, instantly slammed the throttle forward. The rotors roared back to life with a deafening whine, kicking up a cloud of dust and grass. The pilot pulled the pitch stick, lifting the heavy aircraft off the tarmac just as one of Marcus's guards opened fire, bullets pinging off the armored underbelly of the chopper.
The helicopter veered wildly into the dark night sky, leaving Julian completely stranded on the open grass with four armed men pointing weapons at his chest.
"Marcus?!" Julian shouted, his eyes wide with utter shock and confusion. "Are you out of your mind?! What is the meaning of this?!"
"Your mother was always too smart for her own good," Marcus said into his shoulder radio, ignoring Julian's question. "All teams, emergency protocol! Find Eleanor Sterling! Kill her on sight!"
Down in the underground control room, Eleanor watched the monitor as her son raised his hands in the air, surrounded by Marcus's men.
"They're taking him toward the east wing," Chloe panicked, staring at the screens. "Mrs. Eleanor, what do we do?!"
"We fight," Eleanor said, her tone absolute and unyielding.
She walked over to the reinforced emergency supply locker in the corner of the control room. Using her master key, she unlocked the steel doors. Inside rested two heavy-duty tactical shotguns, several boxes of twelve-gauge shells, and two bulletproof vests designed for executive protection.
Eleanor threw one vest to Chloe. "Put it on."
"I... I don't know how to shoot a gun!" Chloe stammered, holding the heavy Kevlar vest with trembling hands.
"You don't have to," Eleanor commented smoothly, strapping the second vest tightly over her maid's uniform. She loaded five red twelve-gauge shells into the magazine tube of a Remington 870 shotgun, racking the slide with a loud, terrifying CHCK-CHCK. "You just have to stay behind me and hold the briefcase."
Eleanor turned to the control panel one last time, punching in a sequence that triggered the estate's secondary fire-suppression alarms.
High-pressure sprinkler systems instantly activate across the entire mansion, unleashing thousands of gallons of water per minute into the hallways, grand ballroom, and foyer. The heavy iron security shutters over the windows began to descend automatically, sealing the mansion into an impenetrable steel fortress.
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Sirens wailed across the estate, red emergency strobe lights flashing against the stone walls.
"Marcus wants a war in my house," Eleanor said, racking the shotgun slide once more as she headed for the heavy steel exit door. "Let's give him one."
