Chapter 3 - The Steel Cage
Inside the master suite of the Mercer mansion, the heavy steel security shutters ground down with a deafening hydraulic hiss, blocking out the rain and lightning from the balcony outside.
The bedroom was dark, lit only by the red emergency lights along the baseboards.
Outside the thick oak door, heavy boots pounded against the floor.
“Break it down!” Richard Wells’ voice shouted from the corridor. “Get the thermal cutter! We have twenty minutes before the buyer’s transport arrives at the private pier!”
“She locked the master wing!” Cassandra screamed, her voice shrill and hysterical. “How did she know the master code? Marcus never gave that code to anyone!”
“She’s his blood, you idiot!” Wells spat back. “Find the manual override in the basement panel or we lose forty-five million dollars!”
Inside the closet, Lily huddled beneath a pile of heavy cashmere coats. She had her small hands pressed over her ears, tears streaming down her soot-stained cheeks. Her tiny fingers were bruised from punching the heavy metal keypad near the bed.
She had remembered the sequence. 7-0-4-2. Her birthday.
Suddenly, a loud, terrifying metallic screech echoed through the room.
BZZZZZZT.
A blue flame sparked through the heavy oak door. The smell of burning wood and melting metal filled the bedroom. They were using a plasma torch to cut through the heavy deadbolts.
Lily backed away, squeezing into the furthest corner of the closet.
“Daddy…” she sobbed softly. “Please…”
CRACK!
The bedroom door splintered open. Heavy footsteps entered the room.
Through the slats of the closet door, Lily saw two men in black tactical gear holding assault rifles. Behind them stood Cassandra, dressed in an expensive trench coat, holding a leather designer handbag stuffed with passports and bearer bonds. Beside her was Richard Wells, sweating profusely, holding a satellite phone.
“Check the closet,” Wells ordered, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. “Hurry up!”
One of the mercenaries stepped toward the closet. He reached out with a gloved hand and pulled the sliding door wide open.
The flashlights illuminated Lily’s tiny form shivering against the wall.
“Got her,” the mercenary said coldly.
Cassandra stepped forward, a triumphant, cruel smile playing on her painted lips. She reached down, grabbed Lily forcefully by the upper arm, and yanked the child to her feet.
“Ouch! You’re hurting me!” Lily cried out, kicking violently.
“Shut up!” Cassandra snapped, slapping the child across the face with enough force to knock her to her knees. “You little parasite! Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused tonight?”
“Hey! Don't mark the merchandise!” Wells warned sharply, catching Cassandra’s arm. “The buyer pays for pristine goods. Keep her quiet!”
Cassandra sneered, pulling a small syringe from her coat pocket. “This will keep her quiet until she’s out in the Pacific.”
Lily’s eyes went wide with terror as she saw the needle. “No! Let me go! My daddy is coming! He’s going to kill you!”
“Your father is a disgraced criminal sitting in a English prison cell,” Cassandra laughed bitterly. “He isn't coming, sweetheart. Nobody is coming.”
Cassandra grabbed Lily’s shoulder, raising the syringe.
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Suddenly, the whole house shook.
An explosion from the main gate shattered the quiet night, followed instantly by the deafening sound of automatic gunfire tearing through the lower level of the mansion.
