Chapter 10 - The Locked Fortress
The heavy thud of deadbolts sliding into place echoed through the mahogany-paneled hallway like gunshots. Thomas froze, his hands still raised in anticipation of grabbing his brother across the desk. The raw fury in his chest instantly gave way to a cold, razor-sharp vigilance. He snapped his head toward the heavy double doors of the study, listening intently as the soft hum of the estate’s automated climate control system cut out entirely, plunging the mansion into an eerie, unnatural silence.
"What was that?" Thomas demanded, his voice dropping into a harsh, vibrating whisper. He didn't wait for David to answer. He turned on his heel and strode rapidly toward the double doors, his boots striking the Persian rug with heavy, deliberate force.
"Wait, Tom, don't—" David started, jumping up from behind his desk, his polished facade finally cracking to reveal genuine, unadulterated panic.
Thomas didn't listen. He grabbed the heavy brass door handles and wrenched them apart. The hallway outside was empty, bathed in the dim, amber glow of emergency wall sconces. But the air felt different—thicker, colder, smelling faintly of ozone and burning copper. Down at the far end of the gallery, near the massive foyer where they had entered just twenty minutes ago, the heavy oak front doors were sealed tight behind automated steel shutters that had dropped from the ceiling frame, blocking out the stormy night entirely.
"David!" Thomas shouted over his shoulder, turning back to glare at his brother, who had hurried out of the study to join him in the hallway. "What is the meaning of this? Did you lock us in?"
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"I didn't touch the security console," David said, his voice breathless, his eyes darting frantically toward the control panel
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