Chapter 6 - Perimeter Breach
“Get down,” I whispered.
Hannah immediately slid off the sofa, crawling behind the heavy stone hearth of the fireplace.
“How did they find us?” she breathed, terror creeping back into her voice. “I didn't bring my phone! You left yours in the glovebox!”
“The truck,” I said, cursing myself silently. “Zachary’s security team must have placed an air-tag or magnetic transponder under the wheel well when they confronted us at the hospital.”
I moved quickly across the dark cabin to the gun cabinet concealed behind the pantry wall. I didn't want bloodshed, but I wasn't going to let them drag my daughter away into the dark. I pulled out a Remington 12-gauge tactical shotgun, checked the chamber—loaded with non-lethal heavy rubber batons—and strapped a sidearm to my hip.
Outside, car doors clicked open and closed with quiet efficiency.
Four men. Maybe five. They moved in tactical formation, spreading out to cover the front porch and the rear egress. These weren't city cops. These were private military contractors—men Zachary paid six-figure salaries to make problems disappear.
Suddenly, a voice boomed through an external megaphone from the driveway.
“Colonel Montgomery! Step outside with your hands visible!”
It wasn't a guard.
It was Zachary.
He had come himself. He was too arrogant, too obsessed with retaining control, to let his mercenaries handle this alone.
“Colonel!” Zachary called out again, his voice dripping with condescension. “You’re harboring a fugitive who stole proprietary defense intellectual property! The Indiana State Police have been notified that Hannah is armed, unstable, and experiencing a violent psychiatric break! If you force my team to breach that structure, things will get messy. Send her out with the drive and the box, and I will ensure she receives private medical care without criminal charges!”
Hannah looked up at me from the floor, her face pale, her jaw trembling. “Dad… he’ll kill you.”
“Hannah,” I said, kneeling beside her. I took her bruised hands in mine. “Look at me.”
She met my eyes.
“Thirty years ago, I swore an oath to defend this country against all enemies, foreign and domestic. But before that, the day you were born, I made a promise to God that I would protect you with my life. Nobody is taking you. Nobody is touching you. Do you hear me?”
A single tear rolled down her bruised cheek, but she nodded.
“Take this,” I said, handing her my satellite emergency beacon. “If the back door opens and it isn't me, you hit this red button. It pings the local State Police barracks directly with an officer-down distress signal. Understand?”
“Yes.”
I racked the slide of the shotgun, the metallic *clack-clack* echoing sharply in the quiet room.
I walked to the front door, turned the deadbolt, and stepped out onto the covered porch into the freezing rain.
Zachary Albright stood twenty yards away, illuminated by the soft interior dome light of his SUV. He was wearing a heavy black wool coat, his hands shoved into his pockets. Four tactical guards in body armor flanked him, their carbines held at the low-ready position.
“Colonel,” Zachary said, a smug grin curling his lips. “I admire the devotion. But this is the real world. You’re an old soldier living on a pension. I run the infrastructure of the modern world. You cannot win this.”
“You’re trespassing on private property, Zachary,” I said, holding the shotgun braced across my chest. “You take one step up these porch stairs, and your men will find out what happens when you underestimate old soldiers.”
Zachary sighed, shaking his head. “Take him down. Secure the girl. Get the drive.”
The two lead guards moved forward, raising their weapons.
May you like
They thought they were dealing with an angry grandfather. They didn't realize they were standing in a prepared defensive sector.
***
