Chapter 23 - The fire in the library
Richard did not wait for Viktor to die for him. He raised the MPX submachine gun, sighted Arthur's skull over the iron sights, and squeezed the trigger.
The gun jammed.
The click of the firing pin on a dud cartridge was microscopic in the vast room, but Elena’s head snapped upward instantly. "Sniper on the balcony!" she screamed, throwing herself against Arthur and knocking him violently beneath the archway of the dining room as Richard dropped the useless weapon and drew his backup Glock.
A hail of high-caliber rifle rounds chewed the marble balustrade into powdery dust around Richard’s head. Concrete shards sliced his cheeks as he rolled backward along the gallery floor. Down below, Viktor used the distraction to throw his entire body weight into the nearest guard, sending both of them tumbling over the railing into the basement wine cellar stairs.
"Don't let him reach the panic room!" Arthur's voice roared through the smoke from the lower level. "Set the ground floor ablaze! Smoke the rat out of his hole!"
Richard heard the distinct thud of incendiary grenades detonating in the east wing. Within seconds, the library—housing three centuries of family records, priceless first editions, and ledger books—became an inferno. Thick, oily black smoke rolled up the central stairwell, carrying the stench of burning timber and ancient leather.
Richard knew he had fewer than three minutes before the second floor became an unbreathable furnace. More critically, the panic room's external intake vents were located near the east eaves; if the fire consumed the exterior walls, Sarah and Noah would bake alive inside their steel tomb.
He sprinted back toward the master bedroom, kicking open the service access hatch behind the linen press. He dropped down into the narrow maintenance chute, sliding through copper pipes and electrical conduits until his boots slammed onto the hard floor of the lower basement.
The basement was flooded with an inch of freezing water from ruptured sprinkler pipes. Shadows danced across the stone walls as fire crackled in the ceilings above.
Richard rounded the corner toward the auxiliary generator bay, his gun drawn. Suddenly, a shadow separated itself from the steam. A titanium blade slashed downward toward his throat.
Richard parried with his left forearm, the heavy leather of his jacket taking the brunt of the slash, and drove his knee hard into his attacker's solar plexus. The attacker staggered back into the red glow of an emergency exit sign.
It was Elena. Her dark eyes burned with an unnatural, fanatical hatred.
"You took everything from me, Richard!" she hissed, circling him with fluid, predatory grace, the knife flashing between her fingers. "You told the Council I betrayed the family! You made them sign my execution order!"
"You were selling the identities of our undercover families to the federal task force for ten million dollars, Elena!" Richard growled, circling her in return, his boots splashing through the crimson-tinted water. "You signed your own death warrant. My brother just picked up the pieces of trash I left behind."
"Your father had my child killed!" she shrieked, lunging forward with blinding speed.
Richard dodged the steel by millimeters, caught her wrist, and twisted it savagely behind her back, slamming her face-first into the concrete pillar. "My father was a monster, yes. But you and Arthur are worse. Where are the rest of your men?"
Elena chuckled through bloody teeth against the concrete. "Look at the security monitors behind you, Richard. It's already done."
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Richard’s gaze flicked upward to the auxiliary bank of screens flickering above the workbench. His heart stopped.
The heavy steel door of the safe room upstairs was wide open. Standing inside, carrying a trembling Noah wrapped in a gray wool blanket, was Arthur. And lying motionless on the threshold of the vault was Sarah, a pool of dark blood pooling beneath her golden hair.
