Chapter 16 - Fire and Fog
Muzzle flashes strobed through the foyer, illuminating the high walls and the portraits of generations of Vances whose wealth had been built on buried bodies and quiet settlements. Plaster dust exploded in white clouds as suppressed rounds ripped through the dry wall around Ryan’s position.
Ryan ducked low behind the mahogany balustrade, wood splinters stinging his cheeks. He fired a second shell, the blast catching the arm of one operative and spinning him hard against the console table, sending crystal vases crashing to the floor.
“Pincer him!” the team leader barked, his voice sharp now, the polite veneer stripped away. “Take the girl from the kitchen side!”
Ryan’s stomach dropped. *The pantry.*
He didn't wait. Abandoning the high ground, Ryan bolted down the rear servant staircase, descending three steps at a time in total darkness. He hit the bottom floor just as an operative kicked open the kitchen swinging door.
Ryan didn't aim. He slammed his entire body weight into the door, catching the operative off balance. The man stumbled backward, his carbine firing a wild burst into the ceiling rafters. Ryan drove the butt of the shotgun into the man's jaw with brutal, desperate force. The man collapsed onto the tile, out cold.
Ryan tore the pantry door open. “Sophie, now!”
Sophie burst out, her face pale, gripping a heavy cast-iron skillet like a club. She didn't hesitate. She grabbed Ryan’s coat, and together they sprinted through the laundry room, busting through the side storm door and tumbling into the blinding rain outside.
The night air was freezing, the downpour turning the manicured lawn into a slurry of mud and dead leaves. Behind them, alarms began to scream as backup generators triggered, floodlights sweeping across the yard like prison searchlights.
“To the treeline!” Ryan yelled, guiding her with an arm around her waist as rounds snapped through the wet rhododendron bushes around them.
A bullet caught the heel of Ryan’s boot, sending him tumbling hard into the mud. Sophie caught him by the shoulders, hauling him upward with strength forged from years of physical therapy and stubborn survival.
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“I’ve got you!” she shouted over the storm. “You caught me on the balcony, Ryan! I catch you now!”
They plunged into the dense woods that bordered the estate, the thorns tearing at their clothes, the dark swallowing them whole while the estate behind them began to burn—flames licking out of the shattered veranda as the operatives realized their prize had slipped away.
