Chapter 13 - The Siege at the Coast
The fog rolled in thick and suffocating from the Atlantic, blanketing the orchard in a ghostly white mist. The temperature had plummeted ten degrees in less than an hour.
"We have to evacuate now," Vance said, checking the magazine of his tactical sidearm. "My two backup officers are securing the lower lane, but if Estelle hired professional contractors, they have high-powered rifles and thermal optics."
"We can't outrun them on these back roads in this fog," Christopher said, looking out into the dense white wall outside. "There’s only one road out of Blackwood Ridge, and if they have a maritime transport, they’re coming by water from the lower cove."
"There’s an old lobster cellar beneath the barn," Sarah said, her voice shaking but resolute. "It has a reinforced iron door and an underground tunnel that leads down to the rocky beach. Rachel and I used to play there when we were kids."
"Take Emma, Leo, and Yvette down there right now," Christopher ordered. "Lock the iron grate behind you. Do not open it for anyone except me or Vance."
Emma ran to Christopher, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Daddy, don't stay out here! Come with us!"
Christopher knelt down, taking Emma’s and Leo’s hands into his own. He looked into his son’s eyes, then into his daughter’s.
"I promised you I would never let anyone hurt you again," Christopher said softly, kissing both of their foreheads. "I'm going to make sure this house is safe. Go with Aunt Sarah and Mrs. Yvette. Daddy will be right behind you."
Leo looked up at Christopher with unmistakable courage. "Take my pocketknife, Dad. Just in case."
Christopher took the tiny wooden-handled knife from his son's palm, a tight lump forming in his throat. "Thank you, buddy. Now go."
Sarah hurried the children and Yvette through the rear pantry door toward the barn.
The heavy thud of silenced rifle fire cracked through the orchard fog.
The front window of the living room shattered into a thousand jagged shards as high-velocity rounds ripped through the curtains, chewing the plaster walls into dust.
"Down!" Vance roared, tackling Christopher behind the stone fireplace just as a barrage of automatic gunfire tore through the dining table.
Outside, three dark figures in full tactical combat gear emerged through the mist, advancing methodically up the front porch steps. Behind them, walking slowly up the gravel path with an umbrella held over her silver hair, was Estelle Pierce.
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She looked entirely unhinged. Her expensive suit was stained with road grime, her eyes burning with a venomous, psychotic fury.
"Christopher!" Estelle’s voice carried over the sound of rain and reloading magazines, amplified by a megaphone. "You thought you could strip me of my empire and hide in the woods with your little gutter rats? Come out, Christopher! Sign the power of attorney documents, or my men will burn this entire valley to the ground with your children inside it!"
