Chapter 18 - THE REINFORCED PANIC ROOM
More footsteps swarmed the hallway, shouting tactical commands and dragging heavier breaching equipment toward the East Wing.
"We can't hold this room if they bring in explosives," Clara noted, checking the magazine of the fallen mercenary's rifle.
"We aren't going to hold it. We're going to lead them where we want them," Marcus replied, his eyes gleaming with tactical strategy.
He punched a hidden keypad on the wall beside the fireplace, revealing a secret elevator shaft descending into the mansion's subterranean core.
"Can you walk down those steps, or do I need to carry you?" Clara asked, noting his trembling legs.
"I can walk," Marcus declared through gritted teeth, gripping the elevator handrails and forcing his feet to touch the floor.
It hurt like hell, but sheer willpower and rage kept his legs supporting his weight as he stepped inside the descending car.
Clara followed closely, pulling the heavy steel security gate shut behind them just as a hail of bullets shattered the guest suite walls.
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They descended into the pitch-black subterranean bunker beneath the estate, where the ultimate trap awaited their pursuers.
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