Chapter 6
The thick white smoke billowed instantly, smelling of sulfur and burning rubber. Elena coughed violently, shielding Julian’s bleeding head with her body as the room descended into blinding chaos.
“Get down!” a sharp, unfamiliar voice barked from the shattered window frame.
Through the haze, a dark-clad figure dropped silently onto the Persian rug, moving with incredible speed and precision. Before Mercer could pivot his gun toward the window, the newcomer struck his wrist with a heavy iron fireplace poker. The revolver flew from Mercer’s hand, clattering away into the darkness beneath the bookshelves.
Mercer snarled, throwing a heavy punch, but his attacker blocked it effortlessly, swept his legs out from under him, and slammed him hard against the oak desk. Mercer gasped for air, his gray suit wrinkling as he was pinned firmly to the floor.
“Who the hell are you?” Mercer choked out, struggling against the iron grip holding him down.
“Someone who is tired of cleaning up your boss’s mess,” the figure replied in a low, modulated voice.
As the smoke began to thin near the ceiling, Elena blinked through stinging eyes and looked up at their savior. It was a woman, wearing a tactical black jacket with her blonde hair pulled back into a tight, practical updo. In her ear, a tiny radio receiver blinked a dull red light.
Julian groaned, pushing himself up onto one elbow, wincing as a sharp pain flared across his temple. He wiped blood from his forehead and stared at the woman in disbelief. “Who… what is going on?”
“There is no time for questions,” the woman said, glancing anxiously toward the heavy oak doors of the library, where muffled shouts could be heard echoing from the hallway. “Mercer brought backup. If we don’t move in the next thirty seconds, we are all dead.”
She reached down, hauling Mercer to his feet with one hand, and slammed the heavy silver briefcase against his jaw, rendering him unconscious instantly. He slumped to the floor like a sack of grain.
Elena crawled over to Arthur’s motionless body, pressing trembling fingers to his cold neck. She looked up at the tactical operative, her eyes filled with devastating realization. “He’s gone. Arthur’s heart… it stopped.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Vance, but he chose his path a long time ago,” the woman said gently, kneeling beside Elena for a split second before grabbing her arm. “You need to come with me if you ever want to see your daughter again.”
Julian struggled to his feet, swaying slightly as dizziness threatened to pull him under. “My sister? You know where Anna is? How do we know you aren’t working for The Architect too?”
The woman reached into her tactical pocket and pulled out a small, familiar object, tossing it through the air. Julian caught it reflexively. It was a silver crescent moon pendant—an exact match to the one Anna had held on the stone steps.
“Because I’m the one who put that necklace around her neck forty years ago,” the woman said, turning toward the broken window and pulling a grappling line from her belt. “Now move!”
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Outside, heavy boots pounded against the hallway floor outside the library. The brass doorknob began to turn.
“Jump!” the woman commanded, firing her grappling hook into the ancient oak tree outside the courtyard.
