Chapter 8: The Shadow at the Window
Before Elena could acknowledge the order, a sharp crack echoed from the front of the house, shattering the quiet amber twilight.
“Elena! Get down!” Major Vance’s voice barked through the phone speaker, though the connection began to break up with heavy static interference.
Elena dropped instantly into a low tactical crouch, her military training taking over in a fraction of a second. She drew her sidearm from its holster, her striking blue eyes locking onto the expansive glass windows of the kitchen. The amber sunlight was suddenly cut by a dark silhouette moving rapidly across the front lawn.
Footsteps crunched heavily on the gravel driveway, followed by the muffled thud of a silenced gunshot piercing the exterior wall. A small bullet hole punched through the drywall near the refrigerator, sending a plume of white dust billowing into the air. Someone was out there, and they weren’t local police. They were professional operatives sent by Apex Defense Solutions to recover the ledger and eliminate any witnesses.
“Aunt Martha! Get down on the floor!” Elena shouted over the din of the gunfire, crawling rapidly down the hallway toward her aunt’s bedroom.
Another silenced round shattered the kitchen window, glass shards exploding inward and scattering across the marble floor like diamonds. Elena reached the bedroom doorway just as Martha dropped flat onto the carpet, shielding her head with her hands, whimpering softly in sheer terror.
“Elena, what’s happening?” Martha cried out, her voice trembling uncontrollably.
“We’ve been compromised. Apex hit squads are on the property,” Elena said tersely, her breathing steady and controlled despite the adrenaline surging through her veins. She holstered her sidearm temporarily to grab Martha by the arm, dragging her low to the ground toward the rear service exit that led directly into the detached garage.
The sound of heavy boots kicking open the front door echoed through the house. Professional, methodical, and swift. The intruders were clearing rooms with military precision, moving deeper into the residence. They were looking for the ledger, and they were willing to kill everyone inside to get it.
Elena kicked open the rear kitchen door leading into the dark interior of the garage, pushing Martha ahead of her toward her dark navy sedan parked inside. The garage was dim, illuminated only by the faint security lights filtering through the small wire-reinforced windows.
“Get into the passenger seat, Aunt Martha. Lock the doors,” Elena commanded, pulling the tactical backpack tight against her chest.
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She popped the trunk of the sedan, tossing the heavy ledger and her gear inside before sliding into the driver’s seat. Her hands flew across the dashboard, turning the ignition key. The engine roared to life with a deep, throaty purr.
As Elena shifted into reverse, the door connecting the kitchen to the garage began to splinter under a heavy kick from the other side. Time had officially run out.
