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The solid oak door didn't just open; it shattered into a million jagged splinters, flying across the bathroom tiles like shrapnel. / Chapter 4 / 10

Chapter 4 - Zero ToleranceBefore Marcus could even blink, my father moved with a blinding, terrifying speed that defied his age.

He didn't use a gun. He didn't need to.

In a fraction of a second, Colonel Vance crossed the distance between the doorway and the center of the living room. With a brutal, fluid motion, he drove the butt of his rifle upward, striking Marcus squarely in the jaw.

The sickening crack of teeth shattering echoed through the room.

Marcus shrieked, letting go of my hair as he staggered backward, clutching his bloody face. Before he could hit the floor, my father grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, lifted him effortlessly off his feet, and hurled him across the room.

Marcus crashed hard into the entertainment center, smashing shelves and burying himself in a pile of shattered electronics and broken glass.

"Lena," my father said, his voice instantly softening as he turned his attention to me. He dropped his weapon to a single-point sling and stepped forward, catching me as my knees finally gave out.

Strong, calloused hands—hands that had overthrown dictators and dismantled terrorist cells—gently gathered me up, careful to avoid my mangled left arm.

"Dad..." I sobbed, burying my face in his tactical vest, smelling the familiar scent of gun oil, cedar, and rain. "You came."

"I told you to stay alive for eight minutes, didn't I?" he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head while glaring murderously at the groaning figure of Marcus in the corner. "Nobody touches my blood. Nobody."

Behind him, the two Delta Force operators secured the perimeter, sweeping the kitchen and bedrooms in absolute silence, clearing the apartment in seconds.

"Area is clean, Colonel," one of them reported crispsly. "No other hostiles."

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The heavy mahogany door of the dressing room seemed to close in on us, trapping the suffocating tension inside. Richard’s hands were shaking as he clutched the small, tarnished silver pendant. His knuckles were bone-white.

The heavy mahogany door of the dressing room seemed to close in on us, t...

The heavy silver fork slipped from my fingers, clattering sharply against the gold-rimmed porcelain of my dinner plate.

The heavy silver fork slipped from my fingers, clattering sharply agains...

The heavy mahogany door of the Fairmont Copley suite clicked shut with a muffled, expensive thud.

The heavy mahogany door of the Fairmont Copley suite clicked shut with a...

Marcus groaned from the floor, spitting out a mouthful of blood and broken teeth. He looked up at my father with eyes wide with sheer panic. "Who... who the hell are you? You can't just break into my home! I'll call the police! I'll have you arrested!"

My father slowly turned around, looking down at Marcus the way a scientist looks at a particularly repulsive insect.

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