Chapter 13
Before the warning could fully register, a loud explosion echoed from the front gates of the estate.
The automated security gate blew inward in a ball of fire and twisted metal, illuminating the night sky in bright orange.
Two heavy armored SUVs plowed through the wreckage, racing up the gravel driveway toward the front entrance.
"Ambush! All units fall back to the interior defense lines!" the radio crackled with frantic urgency.
Thomas shoved the captured operative into the arms of the federal agents, turning toward the study door.
"Clara, stay in the secure panic room behind the bookshelf," Thomas instructed firmly, pushing her toward the hidden alcove.
"I'm not leaving you, Dad!" Clara protested, her eyes wide with adrenaline.
"Clara, that's an order!" Thomas barked, his military tone leaving zero room for argument.
She reluctantly slipped into the reinforced alcove as the heavy mahogany bookshelf slid shut and locked automatically.
Thomas racked the slide of his service pistol, stepping out into the hallway as the front front glass shattered into a million pieces.
Heavy footsteps swarmed the foyer, and through the smoke emerged a tall, immaculately dressed woman in a dark trench coat.
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Her short grey hair and cold, calculating eyes looked chillingly familiar under the flashing emergency lights.
She held a sleek silver satellite phone in one hand and a suppressed pistol in the other.
