Chapter 4 - The Shadow in the Security Room
By 2:00 p.m., Dominic was inside his private armory beneath the garage.
The basement room was reinforced with six inches of solid steel, completely isolated from the estate’s primary internal network. Standing around a tactical map table were six men dressed in dark, unflagged tactical gear—his private, off-grid strike team led by Marcus Vance, a former special forces operator who answered only to Dominic.
“Jack Mercer has been running a secondary encrypted cell signal from inside his private quarters on the third floor,” Marcus reported, pointing to a digital signal map on a laptop screen. “Every day at 3:15 p.m., his phone pings a cell tower near the industrial docks on the South Side.”
Dominic looked at the map. “The abandoned grain silos near Pier 42.”
“Exactly,” Marcus nodded. “It’s off-grid, heavily industrial, and surrounded by empty warehouses. If you wanted to hide a hostage in a dark room where no one could hear them scream, that’s where you’d do it.”
Dominic pulled the tiny slip of paper from his pocket—the note Lily had brought back from Claire’s room.
“My fiancée’s sister, Paige, is inside that facility,” Dominic said, his voice cold as liquid nitrogen. “She’s being kept in sensory deprivation. When my men breach the room, she’s going to be terrified. She’s going to be counting out loud—backward from one hundred by sevens. If she doesn't stop at twenty-three, it means someone else is in that room with a trigger.”
Marcus’s jaw tightened. “Understood, boss. What about Mercer?”
“Mercer stays alive for now,” Dominic said, his eyes narrowing. “If Mercer realizes we’ve found the warehouse before we secure Paige, he’ll execute his backup plan and blow the facility. I’m going to keep him occupied here at the mansion while you execute the breach.”
Dominic walked over to a steel weapons locker, pulled out a suppressed 9mm sidearm, and checked the chamber with a crisp metallic click.
“You move at 3:10 p.m.,” Dominic ordered Marcus. “Five minutes before Jack’s scheduled daily check-in call. You have exactly three minutes to clear the guards, secure Paige, and send me the green signal.”
“And if the signal goes red?” Marcus asked bluntly.
Dominic looked up, his slate-gray eyes flashing with a terrifying, unholy light.
“If the signal goes red, Marcus... I’ll tear Jack Mercer’s spine out with my bare hands right here in the hallway.”
At 3:00 p.m., Dominic walked into the main security monitoring room on the second floor of the mansion.
Jack Mercer was sitting at the master console, reviewing camera feeds along the eastern perimeter fence. When Dominic entered, Jack stood up immediately, putting on his usual posture of crisp efficiency.
“Everything is secure along the perimeter, boss,” Jack reported. “I’ve rotated the secondary guard shifts as you requested.”
“Good,” Dominic said, leaning over Jack’s shoulder, pretending to study the camera monitors. “Tell me, Jack... how long have we worked together?”
Jack blinked, surprised by the question. “Seven years, sir. Since your father passed.”
“Seven years,” Dominic echoed, his voice dangerously soft. “You’ve seen every threat to this family. You’ve seen men try to buy my loyalties, try to poison my shipments, try to plant wires in my walls.”
Jack’s hands tightened subtly against the edge of the console desk. “Yes, sir. And I’ve eliminated every single one of them for you.”
Dominic checked his watch. It was 3:12 p.m.
Three miles away at the industrial docks, Marcus Vance’s team was currently moving into position around the abandoned grain silo.
“I was thinking about my father’s clock today,” Dominic said casually, taking a slow step toward the window. “He always told me that a traitor inside your house is like a termite in the floorboards. You don't notice them until the entire roof comes crashing down on your head.”
Jack’s breath hitched slightly. He cleared his throat, maintaining his composure with practiced ease. “Your father was a wise man, Mr. Hale. That’s why we’re going to make sure Claire Whitmore pays for what she did.”
3:14 p.m.
In Dominic’s pocket, his private satellite phone vibrated twice.
A silent, two-pulse alert.
Target acquired. Breaching now.
May you like
Dominic turned back to face Jack, a slow, terrifying smile spreading across his face—a smile that made the blood in Jack Mercer’s veins instantly turn to ice.
“Claire isn't paying for anything, Jack,” Dominic said softly. “Because Claire never betrayed me.”
