Chapter 11 - The Blackout|
The sudden darkness was accompanied by the loud, metallic clunk of the estate’s backup generator shutting down.
"Daniel!" Gabriel barked, his hand moving instantly inside his coat to draw his tactical sidearm.
No answer came over the house intercom.
Outside, the perimeter security floodlights died, plunging the estate into the dim, misty shadows of the morning woods.
PHFT! PHFT!
Suppressed gunshots echoed from the front gatehouse, followed by the heavy thud of bodies hitting the gravel driveway.
"They cut the main power line," Gabriel growled, grabbing my arm and pulling me behind the thick stone fireplace pillar. "They're on the property."
"Who?" I gasped, my pulse racing wildly.
"Dominic Marconi and Moretti's strike team," Gabriel said, his eyes scanning the shadowed windows overlooking the lawn. "They tracked the helicopter."
Suddenly, I remembered Sophie sleeping on the second floor.
"Sophie!" I gasped, turning toward the wooden staircase.
"Hannah, wait!" Gabriel commanded.
I didn't wait. I ran up the stairs through the dark hallway, my heart in my throat, bursting through the master bedroom door.
Sophie was sitting up in the middle of the massive bed, her purple butterfly hearing aids removed and resting on the nightstand. She couldn't hear the gunshots or the alarms. She was simply staring at the balcony door in complete, silent confusion.
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Standing on the glass balcony outside her room, illuminated by the misty lake light, was a tall, broad man in a dark tactical coat holding a glass breaker tool.
Dominic Marconi—Isabella’s father.
