Chapter 7
Above them, the muted sounds of the house being systematically searched began to filter down through the thick concrete ceiling. Heavy boots thudded against the hardwood floors of the study, followed by the sharp sound of drawers being pulled open and furniture being shoved aside. Clara stood near the back of the bunker, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her pale yellow dress standing out sharply against the industrial gray walls of the sanctuary.
"They're in the study," Clara whispered, her eyes fixed on the ceiling as a particularly loud crash echoed overhead.
Elena did not look up from the auxiliary monitor she was monitoring. Her fingers moved swiftly across a secondary keypad, routing the internal audio feeds from the hidden microphones placed throughout the estate directly into her wireless earpiece. She closed her eyes for a moment, listening intently to the muffled voices filtering through the speakers.
"They are looking for the server rack," Elena reported quietly, keeping her voice even to avoid alarming Clara further. "They speak with military precision. This is not a local robbery; these men are professionals working under contract."
Julian paused his typing, resting his hands on the edge of the desk. He let out a slow, ragged breath, his shoulders slumping slightly before he forced himself to sit upright. "They aren't looking for money, and they aren't looking for physical hardware," Julian said, his voice rasped with fatigue. "They want the formula for the neural serum. Vance must have compromised under pressure in the city, or his lab was raided twenty-four hours ago."
Clara stepped closer to her father’s desk, her shock finally giving way to a burning anger. "Vance? You trusted him with everything, Dad. How could you not see this coming?"
"Vance is a scientist, Clara, not a soldier," Julian replied without a trace of defensiveness. "He dedicated thirty years of his life to finding a reversal for neurodegenerative diseases. When corporate conglomerates started buying out his research grants, we had to go dark to protect the formula from being commercialized and rushed to market before safety trials were complete. A rushed serum kills patients. We couldn't let that happen."
"And now they are going to tear this house apart to find it," Clara countered, looking around the sterile bunker. "How long can we stay down here before they figure out where the panic room is?"
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"The exterior walls of this bunker are lined with three feet of reinforced concrete and lead shielding," Elena answered, stepping away from her console. "They cannot use thermal imaging to find us, and without the master key code, the hydraulic seal on that door can only be breached with industrial explosives. Which, given the residential neighborhood limits, they will hesitate to use unless they are desperate."
As if in direct response to Elena's assessment, a tremendous, concussive boom shook the floor beneath their feet. Dust rained down from the ceiling tiles, and the emergency lights flickered violently before stabilizing. The intruders had brought heavy tools.
