PART 6: Fire on the Perimeter
PART 6: Fire on the Perimeter
Automated defenses halt midnight assassins.
At 4:52 a.m., the red emergency strobe lights mounted along the estate’s perimeter walls flashed furiously to life, casting an eerie crimson glow across the sprawling lawns and manicured gardens.
In the command center, the digital monitors lit up as thermal sensors detected movement advancing through the dense treeline along the northern ridge.
“Movement at sector four!” an intelligence operator barked over the intercom. “Six... no, eight combatants in tactical gear, moving fast toward the east wing service entrance.”
“Let them cross the outer fence,” I ordered calmly, standing behind the main console with my arms crossed over my chest. “Draw them into the kill zone.”
The tactical team waited in absolute, disciplined silence.
On the monitors, the black-clad figures crept across the lawn like ghosts, scaling the low decorative wall near the staff quarters with practiced, silent efficiency.
They reached the exact glass doorway where little Lily had stood trembling just hours earlier.
The lead operative raised a breaching charge, pressing it against the reinforced glass of the service entrance.
“Now,” I said.
Vance slammed his hand down on the master override switch.
A deafening roar of automated gunfire echoed from the concealed turret emplacements above the roofline.
The heavy ballistic glass didn't shatter—instead, the courtyard erupted in a blinding flash of tactical suppressive fire that cut down the leading edge of the strike team before their breaching charge could even detonate.
The survivors scattered in sheer panic, diving behind stone fountains and marble planters as my personal enforcers poured out from the subterranean exits to finish the sweep.
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It was over in less than ninety seconds.
The elite assassins who thought they could waltz into a mafia boss’s estate and wipe out my brother’s family discovered too late that they had walked straight into an industrial-grade meat grinder.
