Chapter 4 - THE SIEGE OF OAK RIDGE
The night sky above the Appalachian cabin exploded with the blinding flash of red magnesium flares.
BOOM!
A heavy thermal charge detonated against the thick wooden front doors of the cabin, blowing timber splinters across the great room. Smoke and the acrid smell of burnt cordite filled the air instantly.
From the surrounding pine forest, dozens of heavily armed mercenaries in gray digital camouflage surged forward, firing tactical assault rifles into the building.
Inside, Dominic’s ten elite security guards returned fire with disciplined, lethal accuracy. Gunfire echoed like thunder within the valley, shattering windows and chewing through furniture.
Dominic stood near the stone staircase, firing controlled three-round bursts from his custom rifle, dropping two advancing mercenaries instantly.
"Fallback to secondary positions!" Dominic ordered into his earpiece, ducking as a hail of bullets tore through the drywall above his head. "Hold the lower entrance!"
Down inside the reinforced basement panic room, Norah sat on a steel bench, listening to the muffled explosions shaking the concrete ceiling above her head.
The panic room was equipped with a bank of black-and-white security monitors showing various angles of the estate. On screen four, she saw Dominic moving through the smoke-filled hallway like a phantom—cool, calm, and utterly devastating in combat.
Suddenly, screen two went dark. Then screen three.
Norah’s heart slammed against her ribs. On the main monitor showing the cabin lobby, she saw a towering man wearing a dark trench coat walk through the blown-out entrance, surrounded by four heavily armed bodyguards.
It was Victor Vance.
Victor was a man in his late fifties, with slicked-back silver hair, a scarred lip, and a face carved out of cold stone. He walked calmly over the debris, holding a silver-plated revolver in his right hand.
"Dominic!" Victor’s voice boomed through the cabin’s intercom system, echoing down into the basement walls. "Come out, come out, my boy! You were always my finest operative! Why waste your life for a ghost's daughter?!"
On the monitor, Dominic stepped out into the smoke-filled balcony overlooking the lobby, reloading his sidearm with a lightning-fast motion.
"You killed Arthur, Victor," Dominic’s voice rang out, steady and devoid of fear. "That was your final mistake."
Victor laughed, a dry, mocking sound. "Arthur was a thief! He stole the Ledger that belonged to the Syndicate! Give me the drive and the girl, Dominic, and I’ll let you walk away. You can have your freedom."
"I already have my freedom," Dominic replied coldly. "And you have ten seconds to get off my land before my perimeter charges detonate."
Victor’s smile vanished. "Kill him."
The four bodyguards unleashed a wall of gunfire toward the balcony. Dominic leaped over the railing, catching a steel support beam, swinging down onto the main floor with breathtaking agility.
He tackled the nearest bodyguard, disarming him in a fraction of a second, using the man’s body as a shield while firing into the remaining attackers.
Down in the panic room, Norah watched the chaotic battle unfold on the small monitor. Her eyes widened as she noticed a second team of mercenaries on screen six—they had bypassed the main fight and were breaching the basement cellar door using a hydraulic cutter!
They know about the panic room! Norah realized in horror.
The heavy steel door of the panic room groaned under the immense pressure of the hydraulic jaws. Sparks flew across the concrete floor.
Norah backed away toward the rear wall, looking around desperately for a weapon. On a small emergency supply shelf, she spotted a heavy flare gun and a steel fire extinguisher.
She grabbed the flare gun, loaded a thick red cartridge into the chamber with shaking hands, and pointed it directly at the expanding seam of the steel door.
CREAK... SNAP!
The hydraulic cutter popped the lock. The heavy panic room door swung open with a bang.
A mercenary in a tactical helmet stepped inside, raising his rifle. "Target located—"
Norah didn't wait. She pulled the trigger of the flare gun.
WHOOSH!
A blinding ball of white-hot red flame erupted from the barrel, striking the mercenary directly in his chest armor. The flare ignited his tactical vest with intense heat and smoke, sending him crashing backward out of the doorway, screaming in agony.
The second mercenary behind him raised his weapon, but before he could fire, a shadow dropped down from the basement ceiling access duct.
Dominic landed behind the second mercenary, grabbing his tactical helmet, twisting it sharply to the side with a sickening crack. The guard collapsed instantly to the floor.
Dominic stood over the fallen attacker, breathing heavily, his dark coat torn, his face smeared with soot and sweat. He turned his head and looked into the panic room.
Norah stood there, still holding the smoking flare gun, her eyes wide with adrenaline.
"Nice shot," Dominic panted, offering her a faint, genuine smile amidst the chaos.
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"I told you I wasn't going to just sit here," Norah gasped, lowering the flare gun.
Dominic walked inside, grabbing her arm gently. "Victor is falling back to his helicopter on the eastern ridge. We have two minutes before he flattens this entire estate with heavy air support. We are leaving now."
