Chapter 6
The explosion blew the heavy glass doors into a million glittering fragments, sending a searing wave of superheated air rolling across the living room. Arthur threw himself over Clara and Maya, shielding them with his own body as shattered timber and insulation rained down around them. Through the blinding smoke, a second tactical team—wearing unmarked black gear and thermal helmets—poured through the breached patio, opening fire with suppressive bursts that chewed through the expensive drywall.
"Get down!" Sterling bellowed, drawing his pistol and returning fire with chilling professional accuracy. Two of the invading operatives dropped instantly, their neutralizers hissing as they hit the hardwood floor.
Arthur grabbed Clara by the wrist, pulling her and Maya backward toward the recessed hallway before the crossfire could envelop them. "Through the pantry! Move, move!" he yelled over the deafening rattle of automatic gunfire.
They scrambled down the narrow service corridor, the sound of shouting and shattering glass echoing behind them. Clara was crying openly now, her white blouse torn at the shoulder, her hands bleeding from stray glass shards. They burst into the walk-in pantry, where Arthur immediately shoved aside a heavy wooden shelving unit loaded with canned goods, revealing a reinforced steel access hatch set directly into the floor.
"Get in. Now," Arthur ordered, lifting the heavy steel lid with a groan of effort.
"Where does this go?" Clara asked, her voice shaking violently as she pushed Maya down the vertical metal ladder into the pitch-black void below.
"To the old storm shelter beneath the foundation," Arthur said, glancing back toward the kitchen where the sounds of combat were growing dangerously close. "There’s a radio and a vehicle cache in the secondary tunnel. Take Maya and drive south to the lake house."
"And you?" Clara demanded, catching his arm as he tried to slam the hatch down. "You're not coming with us, are you?"
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"I have to draw them away," Arthur said, his voice softening as he looked into her eyes for what might be the last time. "If they find the shelter, they find Maya. I'm the target they want. I have to finish this."
Before Clara could protest, a heavy boot slammed against the pantry door, shattering the wooden frame into splinters.
