Chapter 6 - Beneath the FloorboardsI sprinted toward the private study, wrenched open the hidden wall panel behind the grandfather clock, and grabbed a heavy tactical shotgun loaded with buckshot. Without wasting a second, I unlocked the steel hatch in the floor leading down into the subterranean wine cellar.
The descent into the old brick tunnels was like stepping into an icebox. The air smelled of damp limestone, vintage oak, and stagnant river water. My flashlight cut a harsh, piercing beam through the gloom, illuminating archways carved by immigrant laborers a century ago.
As I rounded the corner near the central drainage junction, I heard voices echoing off the curved brick ceiling.
“Clear this sector! Rossi wants the maid and the kid secured or eliminated before Moretti gets down here!”
Two men in black tactical gear were moving stealthily down the corridor, their weapons raised, sweeping the dark corners.
I didn't wait for them to spot me. I stepped out from behind a stone pillar, racked the shotgun with a loud, metallic clack, and fired.
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The thunderous roar of the 12-gauge shook the narrow tunnel. The lead mercenary was knocked completely off his feet, crashing into the brick wall. The second spun around in a panic, but before he could squeeze his trigger, I closed the distance, grabbed the barrel of his rifle, and drove my knee straight into his chest. He gasped, dropping his weapon, and slumped unconscious into the shallow water on the floor.
I stepped past them, running toward the heavy iron bulkhead door that led directly into the basement beneath the staff quarters.
