Chapter 9 - Fire and Blood
Victor’s heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. "What did you do?"
"My men breached your west boundary ten minutes ago," Vance gloated, stepping back into the shadows of the candles. "While you are standing here in the ashes of your father's death, your estate is burning to the ground. And your precious Lily is taking her final breath."
Before Vance could finish his sentence, Victor pulled his gun and fired two rapid shots.
Vance gasped as the heavy rounds struck his chest. He staggered backward, his eyes wide in disbelief as he collapsed onto the concrete floor, his wooden cane clattering away into the dark.
Victor didn't wait to watch him die. He turned on his heel and sprinted out of Warehouse 12 into the howling wind, pulling out his encrypted satellite phone as he hit the wet docks.
"Marcus!" Victor screamed into the receiver over the roar of the wind. "MARCUS! ANSWER ME!"
Static crackled through the speaker, followed by the deafening sound of gunfire and shattering glass.
"BOSS!" Marcus’s voice shouted through the static, thick with panic. "WE'RE UNDER ATTACK! THEY BREACHED THE WEST WALL! MULTIPLE ARMED OPERATIVES INSIDE THE HOUSE!"
"WHERE IS LILY?!" Victor roared, jumping into his armored SUV and slamming his foot down on the accelerator. The tires shrieked against the wet pavement as the heavy vehicle rocketed away from the docks.
"SHE'S IN THE PANIC ROOM IN THE STUDY!" Marcus shouted over the sound of automatic rifle fire. "BUT THEY HAVE THERMITE CHARGES! THEY'RE MELTING THE REINFORCED LOCKS! I'M TRYING TO REACH HER BUT WE'RE PINNED DOWN IN THE FOYER!"
"I’M FIVE MINUTES AWAY!" Victor bellowed, his eyes burning with a wild, terrifying fury. "HOLD THEM OFF, MARCUS! IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO HER, I WILL BURN THIS CITY TO GROUND!"
The four-mile drive from the harbor to Beverly Hills felt like an eternity. Victor drove like a demon, blowing through red lights, mounting curbs, and swerving through traffic as the heavy SUV roared at over a hundred miles per hour.
As he rounded the final turn onto his estate road, his worst fears were realized.
Thick, black smoke was billowing into the night sky from the west wing of the mansion. The iron gates had been blown off their hinges. Two dark vans were parked in the driveway, and the sound of heavy gunfire echoed across the manicured lawns.
Victor didn't hit the brakes. He aimed the heavy SUV straight at the parked enemy vans, slamming into them at full speed.
The collision was catastrophic. One van flipped onto its side, spinning across the cobblestones in a shower of sparks, while the other was crushed against the stone pillars of the portico.
Victor threw his door open, stepping out into the smoke and rain with an automatic rifle in his hands.
Two enemy guards scrambled out from behind the wreckage, raising their weapons. Victor fired without stopping, dropping both men before their feet touched the ground.
He stormed through the shattered front entrance into the grand foyer.
Marcus was leaning against a marble column, his arm bleeding profusely from a gunshot wound, holding off three enemy shooters positioned on the grand staircase.
Victor moved like an absolute force of nature. He flanked the staircase, unleashing a devastating hail of gunfire that wiped out the attackers on the stairs within ten frantic seconds.
"BOSS!" Marcus coughed, holding his bloody shoulder. "THE STUDY! THEY'RE CUTTING THROUGH THE PANIC ROOM DOOR NOW!"
Victor didn't say a word. He sprinted up the stairs, taking them three at a time, his heart pounding with pure, unadulterated terror.
He reached the long hallway leading to his private study. At the end of the hall, two heavily armed mercenaries were standing in front of the reinforced steel door of the panic room, a high-temperature thermite torch spitting blinding blue sparks against the melted lock.
"GET AWAY FROM THAT DOOR!" Victor roared.
The mercenaries turned, but Victor was already firing. The heavy rifle rounds tore through the corridor, dropping both men instantly. The thermite torch clattered to the floor, rolling away and dying out against the tile.
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Victor rushed to the smoking steel door. The metal handle was scalding hot, but he didn't care. He grabbed it with his bare hand, ignoring the searing pain, and punched his personal override code into the scorched keyless pad.
The mechanical bolts slowly retracted. The heavy door swung open.
