CHAPTER 8: THE RIDGE DEFENSE
"Get up," Marco said, hauling Dante to his feet by the collar. "Repentance won't save your brother. Action will."
Marco turned to the weapon locker concealed behind the fireplace. He didn't arm himself out of vengeance; he armed himself with the cold precision of a guardian who knew the price of failure. He strapped on a tactical vest, chambered a suppressed carbine, and turned to Dante.
"Take Lily into the hidden root cellar beneath the floorboards. Lock it from the inside. If I don't knock three times with our code, do not open it for anyone."
"Marco, let me fight with you," Dante pleaded, racking a slide on his sidearm. "It's my mess."
"Your job is to keep her breathing," Marco countered, his voice leaving no room for argument. "If you fail her, you fail David. Now move!"
Marco knelt before Lily one last time. He took off a silver chain from around his neck—David's old dog tags—and placed it over her small head.
"Stay with Dante. Close your eyes, count your numbers, and remember: the tree is guarding you."
Lily nodded, holding the cold metal tag tightly in her fist. "Be careful, Mr. Moretti."
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Marco closed the cellar trapdoor and concealed it beneath the heavy rug. Seconds later, the first beam of high-powered tactical headlights swept across the cabin's front windows.
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