Chapter 5 - Siege at Hail & HearthThe sound of the hydraulic ram hitting the steel security shutters vibrated straight up through the floorboards, rattling the delicate glass ornaments hanging from the central Christmas tree.
"How long until the Seattle PD responds to the silent alarm?" Gideon asked, his eyes never leaving Julian, who was laughing openly against the radiator.
Sienna’s fingers flew across her tablet screen, her face pale under the clinical white emergency lights. "The automated dispatch logged the call, but the central precinct is ten blocks away, and the storm has caused gridlock on Interstate 5. Estimated arrival time... twelve to fifteen minutes. We’ve only been locked down for three."
Thud.
Another heavy strike hit the front shutters. The steel buckled inward by half an inch, showering a cascade of white paint flakes onto the welcome mat.
Gideon didn't panic. Panic was for amateurs, for people who let emotion cloud their execution of a crisis response plan. He turned sharply toward Sienna. "Where is the emergency service tunnel? The one the building inspector flagged during the renovation?"
"Behind the antique clock display," Sienna said immediately. "It leads down into the municipal steam utility corridor beneath 4th Avenue. But it’s sealed with a biometric padlock."
"Can you bypass it?"
"Not from this side without the master admin fob," she said, her voice shaking slightly. "And the fob is in your office safe upstairs."
"Go get it," Gideon commanded, his eyes shifting to the two girls on the sofa.
Ren stood up before Gideon could even take a step toward them. She didn't wait for permission. She set her cocoa mug down on the glass coffee table with a tiny clink that sounded louder than the battering ram outside. Nova stood right beside her, her small hand sliding into Ren’s palm with practiced synchronization.
"Are we bad?" Nova asked, her lower lip trembling just a fraction. "Is that why the men are breaking the glass?"
Gideon stopped. He looked down at the two six-year-olds, feeling a strange, unfamiliar warmth expand in his chest—a feeling that had nothing to do with logic or systems, and everything to do with protectiveness. He dropped to one knee again, bringing his eyes level with theirs.
"You aren't bad, Nova," Gideon said, his voice softer than it had ever been in his entire adult life. "You are the bravest kids I have ever met. And nobody is going to touch you as long as I am standing."
"My dad said nobody stays," Ren said, her hazel eyes staring straight into his soul. "He said everyone leaves when things get hard."
"Your dad was an idiot," Gideon replied with absolute, unyielding conviction. "And he was wrong."
CRASH.
The front security shutter gave way. The reinforced glass beneath it shattered into a million diamond-like fragments as the heavy steel plate was peeled back like the lid of a tin can.
Three figures in tactical black gear, balaclavas concealing their faces, stepped through the ragged opening into the amber-lit showroom. The lead operative raised a suppressed submachine gun, his laser sight painting a bright red dot across the chest of the Chesterfield sofa.
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"Target sighted," a gruff voice barked through a comms unit. "Secure the keys. Leave no witnesses."
Gideon didn't hesitate. He reached out, grabbed both Ren and Nova by their small hands, and yanked them behind the massive oak counter of the cash register as a volley of silenced bullets chewed through the velvet cushions of the sofa they had occupied three seconds before.
