Chapter 6 - The Breach at Westchester
The heavy mahogany doors of the grand foyer exploded inward in a shower of splinters and glass.
Four men dressed in tactical body armor and black masks rushed into the mansion, automatic weapons raised, spraying bullets across the priceless artwork and marble statues lining the hallway.
Gabriel ducked behind a massive stone pillar, returning fire with lethal precision. Two shots rang out—pop, pop—and the lead attacker collapsed to the floor with two holes in his chest.
Beside him, Hannah rolled smoothly behind a heavy oak sideboard. She was wielding a tactical carbine Marcus had handed her. Without hesitation, she popped out from cover, fired three controlled bursts, and dropped two more syndicate gunmen as they tried to push through the dining room archway.
Gabriel looked at her, impressed despite his rage. Her stance was perfect, her recoil control flawless. She fought like an elite tactical officer.
"They aren't just here for me!" Hannah shouted over the deafening roar of gunfire. "They're using heavy artillery! Orlov wouldn't send this many men just to collect a bounty! This is a hit on you, Gabriel!"
Gabriel's eyes darkened. She was right. Orlov wasn't just coming for a rogue witness. He was using Hannah’s presence as an excuse to launch a full-scale assault on the Moretti family stronghold.
"Marcus!" Gabriel yelled into his radio terminal. "Are the girls secured?!"
Static crackled over the line. "We're in the stairwell, boss! But two attackers cut us off near the basement! We're pinned down!"
Gabriel’s heart stopped. "Claire. Sophie."
Without a second thought, Gabriel broke cover, sprinting into the exposed hallway, firing wildly at the advancing gunmen to force them back.
A bullet grazed Gabriel's shoulder, ripping through his suit jacket and leaving a streak of crimson across his white shirt. He didn't even flinch. He ran toward the West Wing where the safe room stairs were located.
Hannah was right behind him, providing covering fire, dropping an attacker who was taking aim at Gabriel's back from the balcony above.
They reached the top of the basement stairs just as a smoke grenade exploded at the bottom, filling the narrow corridor with blinding gray clouds.
Through the smoke, Gabriel saw Marcus lying on the floor, holding his bleeding leg, while a massive Belarusian gunman was kicking at the heavy reinforced steel door of the safe room where Claire and Sophie were crying hysterically.
"Get away from my daughters!" Gabriel roared.
The massive gunman turned, raising a shotgun.
Before Gabriel could fire, Hannah slid across the marble floor beneath the gunman's line of sight, drew her 9mm handgun, and fired three rounds directly into the gunman's unarmored neck.
The giant collapsed like a felled oak tree.
Gabriel rushed past the body, slamming his palm against the biometric scanner beside the steel door. The heavy lock clicked, and the door slid open.
Inside, Sophie and Claire were huddled under a table, terrified.
The moment Claire saw Gabriel, she scrambled out from under the table. She didn't wait for anyone to pick her up. She didn't wobble. She ran—six, seven, eight, nine steps—straight into Gabriel's open arms.
"Daddy!" she sobbed, burying her face in his blood-stained shirt.
Gabriel held both of his daughters tight against his chest, his hands trembling as he kissed their hair, his tears mixing with the blood on his shoulder.
"I've got you," Gabriel whispered, his voice shaking with raw, primal relief. "Daddy's here. You're safe."
Hannah stood near the doorway, guarding the corridor, her carbine pointed toward the smoke. She looked back at the family, her eyes glistening with tears as she saw Claire standing firmly on her own two feet, safe in her father's arms.
Outside, the sound of sirens began to wail in the distance. The remaining Orlov gunmen were retreating, realizing they had lost the element of surprise and that Gabriel's secondary security force was arriving.
Gabriel stood up, carrying both of his daughters. He walked toward the doorway and stopped right in front of Hannah.
She looked down at her hands, which were covered in gunpowder and grease, expecting him to order Marcus to shoot her or cast her out into the street.
"You saved my daughters," Gabriel said quietly, his gray eyes searching her face with an intensity that made her breath hitch.
"I promised you I would protect them," Hannah whispered.
Gabriel leaned in close, his face inches from hers. "You lied to me, Hannah. You brought death to my doorstep. But today... you fought for my blood."
"What are you going to do with me?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
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Gabriel looked down at Claire, who was reaching out her little hand, grasping Hannah's apron string tightly.
"You're not leaving this house," Gabriel said, his tone absolute and unquestionable. "From this moment on, Viktor Orlov is my problem. And you, Miss Mercer... are under my personal protection."
