Chapter 11 - THE SIEGE AT MIDNIGHTThe clock struck midnight. The rain outside the Vance mansion turned into a torrential downpour, lashing against the reinforced bulletproof glass of the sprawling estate. Inside, the lights flickered once, twice, and then completely died.
The emergency backup generators kicked in a split second later, bathing the hallways in a dim, eerie amber glow.
Arthur didn't flinch. He stood by the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of his second-floor study, dressed in a tactical turtleneck and dark trousers, holding a silenced submachine gun he hadn't fired since his days in corporate security detail decades prior. He knew the digital counter-attack would flush out the physical operatives. The Architect never left loose ends.
"Dad?"
A small, trembling voice echoed from the doorway. Arthur spun around instantly, his weapon lowering as he saw six-year-old Mayia standing there clutching her favorite stuffed rabbit, rubbing her sleepy eyes.
"Mayia, sweetheart," Arthur rushed over, dropping to one knee and pulling her tightly into his arms. "What are you doing out of bed?"
"The lights went out, and I heard loud noises outside," she whispered, burying her face in his shoulder. "Are the bad men coming back?"
Before Arthur could answer, a deafening crash shattered the glass of the downstairs foyer. Shouts in foreign languages echoed through the marble-tiled entrance hall. Heavy combat boots stomped violently against the stairs.
They’re inside.
May you like
Arthur stood up, his face carved from stone. He scooped Mayia up into one arm, holding the weapon firmly in his right hand. He walked backward into the hidden panic room behind the mahogany bookshelf, sealing the heavy steel door shut with a loud, satisfying hiss.
"You stay right here, princess," Arthur whispered, kissing her forehead. "Daddy has to take out the trash."
