Chapter 17 - The Assassin Inside The House
Before I could process the staggering betrayal within the Moretti family, the subterranean bunker’s security alarms blared violently red.
Flashing red strobe lights bathed the concrete walls in an urgent, terrifying glow as an automated voice announced a perimeter breach.
“Intruders in the west wing courtyard,” the mechanical voice droned repeatedly through the intercom speakers.
Ricardo cursed in Italian, drawing his pistol and shoving me behind a heavy steel blast door near the server racks.
“Stay here, lock this door from the inside, and don’t open it for anyone unless I give the specific passcode,” he ordered fiercely.
“Ricardo, no! Let me come with you!” I begged, grabbing the sleeve of his jacket as my heart hammered against my ribs.
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“If I don't come back down here, use the emergency satellite phone in the wall panel to call the federal prosecutor,” he instructed harshly.
He kissed my forehead once—fast, desperate, and final—before slipping out into the dark corridor and slamming the heavy steel door shut.
