Chapter 5 - Betrayal at the Gate
I tore out of the hospital, taking the armored SUV at ninety miles an hour through the rain-drenched streets of Milwaukee. Beside me, Victor was frantically dialing the security post at the main gate of the Whitaker estate.
"Static, boss! No answer on line one or two!" Victor yelled over the roar of the engine. "Sensors show the perimeter fence was breached three minutes ago!"
"Call the secondary strike team! Tell them no survivors!" I slammed my foot on the accelerator, blowing through red lights, the siren blaring beneath the grill.
When we turned onto the long, wooded driveway leading to the estate, the iron gates were smashed open, hanging off their hinges. Smoke rolled out from the guardhouse. Two of my outer guards lay motionless on the pavement.
I slammed the vehicle to a halt in front of the main foyer. I kicked the front doors open, gun raised, eyes scanning the grand hall.
The estate was silent. Broken glass showered the marble floors. In the center of the living room, tying up my head butler, stood a man in an Italian suit, holding a silver pocket watch.
He turned around slowly. His face was scarred from the freezing waters of Lake Michigan eight years ago, but those sinister, cold blue eyes were unmistakable.
Marcus Vance.
"You're late, Andrew," Marcus smiled, his yellowed teeth gleaming under the chandelier. "You always were a bit slow when your emotions got involved."
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"Where are the children, Marcus?" I whispered, my finger resting on the trigger of my .45.
"Oh, they're safe for now," Marcus said, motioning behind him. Two heavy mercenaries stepped out from the shadows, holding a crying Sophie. Behind them, a portable crib held the twin babies. "You see, eight years ago, you took my empire. You took my dignity. Now, I'm taking your soul."
