Chapter 13
The deafening barrage of automatic gunfire tore through the luxurious penthouse, shredding the pristine white walls and turning expensive modern art into unrecognizable debris. Emily remained perfectly calm behind the marble island, calculating the rhythm of their fire. She knew they were trying to pin her down so they could flank her position.
"Push forward! Suppress her!" a mercenary shouted, reloading his weapon.
As the second man broke cover to sprint toward the kitchen, Emily popped up from behind the marble. She didn't spray wildly; she aimed with lethal, terrifying precision. Two suppressed shots dropped the advancing mercenary mid-stride, his body crashing heavily onto the polished hardwood floor.
The two remaining hostiles realized they were not fighting a panicked socialite, but a highly trained adversary. They retreated toward the service corridor, attempting to regroup.
Suddenly, the heavy, reinforced front doors of the penthouse blew inward with a massive, concussive explosion.
Smoke and pulverized plaster filled the foyer. Silas and his elite, four-man private security detail breached the suite, moving with devastating efficiency. They wore heavy tactical gear and carried suppressed submachine guns.
"Clear right! Clear left!" Silas roared, his gravelly voice cutting through the smoke.
The private security team immediately caught the two remaining mercenaries in a lethal crossfire. The brief, brutal shootout ended in seconds. The hostiles collapsed, entirely neutralized.
The penthouse fell completely silent, save for the ringing in Emily's ears and the soft hum of the climate control.
"Ms. Carter, are you injured?" Silas asked, rushing toward the kitchen, his weapon lowered.
Emily stood up slowly, brushing plaster dust off her immaculate clothes. She looked at the bodies scattered across her ruined, beautiful home.
"I am unharmed," Emily stated, her American accent crisp and devoid of any shock. She calmly engaged the safety on her weapon and placed it on the ruined marble counter. "Check the perimeter. Make sure no one breached the media room."
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"My men have already secured the hallway. Your daughters are perfectly safe," Silas assured her, looking at the two mercenaries Emily had taken down herself with a mixture of profound respect and slight awe.
Emily nodded. The immediate threat was eliminated, but the war was far from over. The syndicate Michael had borrowed from would not stop after one failed assault. She needed to cut the head off the snake.
