Chapter 5 - The Unmasking of the Judas
The heavy ceiling panels above Gideon suddenly slid open,
revealing automated dual heavy machine gun turrets.
"Get down!"
Gideon screamed,
tackling Lucas to the floor just as the turrets opened fire.
A hail of heavy armor-piercing bullets tore through the glass partition walls,
shattering monitors and medical equipment into thousands of flying shards.
The strike team fired back,
their rifle bullets bouncing harmlessly off the reinforced steel plating of the turrets.
"We can't destroy those guns with small arms!"
Lucas yelled,
crawling behind a heavy stainless steel operating table for cover.
Gideon pulled a high-yield thermite charge from his tactical belt,
priming the timer for three seconds.
He leaned out from behind cover,
throwing the charge with absolute precision directly onto the mount of the left turret.
The thermite ignited with a blinding white flash,
melting through the steel housing and destroying the firing mechanism instantly.
Gideon raised his rifle and shot out the power cables powering the second turret,
sending sparks flying across the ceiling until the gun fell silent.
"Lucas! Help me blow the emergency vent!"
Gideon barked,
running toward the heavy maintenance shaft at the back of the room.
Together,
they attached their remaining explosive charges to the vent grate,
blowing a hole large enough for a man to climb through.
One by one,
the surviving members of the strike team climbed down into the darkness of the lower level,
escaping the fourth floor just as automated incendiary gas began filling the lab.
They burst out through the rear cargo doors into the pouring rain,
gasping for fresh air.
Gideon grabbed Lucas by his vest,
his eyes wild with desperation and anger.
"Elena!"
Gideon yelled into his radio headset.
"Elena,
do you copy?!"
Static hummed through the earpiece for five painful seconds before Elena’s panicked voice answered:
"Gideon! Thank God you're alive!"
"What happened back at the estate?"
Gideon demanded,
running toward his tactical vehicle.
"It’s Marcus!"
Elena cried out over the sound of wind and rain.
"He brought a team of mercenaries into the mansion five minutes ago!"
"He killed two of our guards,
cut the primary security grid,
and forced his way into the subterranean safe room!"
Gideon felt his blood turn into liquid fire.
"Is he still there?"
Gideon roared,
jumping into the driver’s seat of the armored van.
"Yes! He’s trying to drag Clara and Lily out to his car!"
Elena reported.
"I’m holding him off from the security room with the interior lockdown doors,
but he’s breaching them fast!"
Gideon slammed his foot onto the accelerator,
the heavy tires spinning furiously against the wet gravel as the van roared into the night.
He drove through the streets of Chicago like a man possessed,
swerving through red lights and running through empty intersections.
Fifteen minutes later,
the armored van crashed through the front iron gates of his own estate,
plowing directly into Marcus’s getaway sedan parked in the driveway.
Gideon jumped out before the vehicle had even stopped moving,
drawing his handguns as he sprinted up the porch steps.
The grand front doors were blown off their hinges,
and the entrance hall was filled with gunsmoke.
Gideon moved through the darkened house like a wraith,
following the sound of crying coming from his private study.
He stepped into the office,
his guns raised and steady.
Standing near the grand desk,
holding a silenced pistol pressed against Clara’s temple,
was Marcus Vance.
"Stay right there,
Gideon!"
Marcus screamed,
his face drenched in sweat,
his eyes wide with panicked desperation.
"Drop your weapons,
or I scatter this brat's brains across your rug!"
Little Lily was cowering on the floor beside them,
clutching Ren’s dried sunflower tightly in her small hand.
"You,"
Gideon said,
his voice eerily calm,
devoid of any panic.
"Fifteen years,
Marcus."
"I gave you a seat at my table,"
Gideon whispered,
taking a slow,
measured step to the side.
"I treated you like my own brother."
"You were weak,
Gideon!"
Marcus shrieked,
his gun hand trembling violently against Clara’s head.
"You let your soft heart ruin our business after Ren died!"
"Viktor offered me half of Chicago's shipping network!"
Marcus yelled.
"All I had to do was help him take care of your little girl!"
"And now you brought these little pests into your home,
carrying the ledger that proves everything!"
Gideon locked eyes with Clara.
The little girl didn't cry.
She looked at Gideon with absolute trust,
giving him a subtle,
barely perceptible nod.
Without warning,
Clara bit down hard on Marcus’s wrist with all the strength she possessed.
Marcus screamed in pain,
instantly flinching and jerking his hand back.
In that split second of distraction,
Gideon raised his right handgun and fired a single bullet.
The shot tore through Marcus’s shoulder,
knocking him backward onto the heavy mahogany desk.
His gun clattered to the floor,
sliding harmlessly under the bookshelf.
Gideon rushed forward,
grabbing Clara and Lily and shoving them safely behind his back.
Marcus groaned in agony,
clutching his bleeding shoulder as he looked up at Gideon with terror-filled eyes.
"Gideon... please..."
Marcus begged,
tears of fear streaming down his pale cheeks.
"We're family... Viktor forced me... he threatened my life!"
Gideon stood over his former friend,
looking down at him with pure,
unforgiving hatred.
"Ren was family,"
Gideon said quietly.
He pulled the trigger,
ending Marcus’s traitorous life instantly.
The silence returned to the mansion,
heavy and absolute.
Gideon knelt down on the floor,
pulling Clara and Lily into his arms for the very first time.
He held the two little girls tightly against his chest,
feeling their small hearts beating against his tactical armor.
He looked out the broken window at the storm slowly fading away over the Chicago skyline.
The traitor was dead,
but the real monster was still waiting in the dark.
Gideon kissed the top of Clara’s head,
his voice steady and filled with a cold,
May you like
unwavering vow:
"Tomorrow,
