Chapter 16 - The Siege of the Blizzard"Enzo’s inside men," Elena hissed, jogging into the study with a submachine gun already locked and loaded. "They must have had secondary timers wired into the main substation downtown."
Before Luca could answer, the security monitors on the wall flickered. The perimeter cameras showed thermal signatures moving through the swirling white snow—dozens of figures in white tactical snow-gear, scaling the perimeter walls with grappling hooks.
"Rostova," Luca said grimly. "He’s not waiting for a tribunal. He’s coming to finish it tonight."
"How many?" Emma asked, standing up and reaching instinctively for her canvas bag.
"At least thirty," Elena replied, checking her magazine. "They brought professional mercenaries. They want the entire estate leveled."
"We can't hold the ground floor," Luca analyzed rapidly, his tactical mind taking over. "The glass facade is too vulnerable to explosive charges. We fall back to the reinforced panic room on the sub-level."
"No," Emma interrupted.
Luca and Elena both stopped and stared at her.
"What did you say?" Luca asked, frowning.
"If we run to the panic room, they trap us underground and pump gas through the ventilation shafts," Emma said, her voice ringing with absolute certainty. Her eyes were bright, focused, and sharp. "My dad taught me: when you're cornered in a bad machine, you don't hide inside the engine block. You flood the carburetion."
"Emma, this isn't a car engine—" Luca started.
"Listen to me!" she stepped right into his space, her face inches from his. "We have the geothermal heating system running through the basement crawlspaces. The intake valves are wide open because of the blizzard. If we override the pressure valves and pump high-pressure steam into the lower courtyard..."
Elena’s eyes widened as the tactical genius of the plan hit her. "A thermal steam trap. Anyone crossing the courtyard in tactical gear will be instantly blinded and incapacitated by boiling mist."
Luca stared at Emma, a mixture of awe and absolute disbelief washing over his face. "You want to turn my front lawn into a giant pressure cooker."
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"Do you have a better idea?" she challenged.
Luca looked at her, smiled a fierce, dangerous smile, and cocked his gun. "Let’s cook."
