Chapter 6 - The Breach
The sound of the hydraulic ram hitting the reinforced deadbolt tore through the quiet apartment.
“Stay inside and don't make a sound,” Evelyn whispered to Lily, shoving the little girl gently into the hidden compartment and sealing the heavy magnetic panel shut.
The front door splintered inward with a violent crash.
Marcus fired three rapid rounds directly through the drywall beside the foyer. A muffled scream followed as the lead operative staggered backward, collapsing into the hallway.
“Move to the fire escape!” Marcus yelled over the deafening cracks of suppressed gunfire tearing through the apartment's designer furniture. Plaster dust exploded into the air, filling the penthouse with a chalky haze.
Evelyn grabbed a heavy cast-iron skillet from the kitchen rack. She wasn't a trained operative, but five years of surviving Julian’s cruelty had forged reflexes out of pure survival instinct.
A second gunman stepped through the smoke, sweeping his rifle toward Marcus’s position behind the kitchen island.
Evelyn lunged from the shadows, swinging the iron skillet with all her strength against the side of the gunman’s helmet. The impact rang out like a church bell. The man stumbled sideways, his weapon clattering across the hardwood floor.
Marcus stepped forward and neutralized him with a clean, devastating strike to the throat.
“Good swing,” Marcus muttered, grabbing the fallen operative’s rifle and checking the magazine. “We have ninety seconds before the building’s perimeter is completely locked down.”
“What about Lily?” Evelyn’s eyes were wild.
“The panic room is reinforced with six-inch ballistic steel. They can’t cut through it in under three hours,” Marcus said, reloading. “They’re here for you. If we draw them out, the girl is safe until the feds arrive.”
“No,” Evelyn refused firmly, stepping between him and the door. “I’m not leaving my daughter behind.”
“Evelyn, listen to me—”
Before Marcus could finish, the lights across the entire penthouse flickered and died. Emergency red strobes snapped on automatically.
From the balcony window behind them, a heavy glass-cutting ring ignited. A third figure dropped smoothly into the living room from a rappel line dangling from the roof.
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The figure landed silently, leveling a weapon directly at Evelyn’s chest.
“Don’t move,” a woman’s voice sneered from beneath the tactical mask. “Julian sends his warmest regards.”
