Chapter 5 - The Infiltration
"Stay inside this closet, Noah," Claire whispered in the pitch-black space, pushing him behind a row of heavy winter coats. "Do not make a sound, no matter what you hear. Do you understand me?"
Noah nodded rapidly, his teeth chattering with fear, clutching the silver key in his fist.
Claire pulled the closet door shut until only a quarter-inch crack remained open.
The house was completely dark, illuminated only by the faint green status lights of the smoke detectors.
CRASH.
The sound of shattering safety glass echoed from the ground-floor living room below, followed by the heavy, deliberate crunch of boots stepping over glass fragments.
Claire held the pistol in a tight, two-handed grip, her thumb resting on the frame, her breath coming slow and steady. She focused on her father’s voice echoing in her memory from years of target shooting on rural ranges: Breathe through the nose. Control the trigger pull. Don't shoot until you identify the target.
Footsteps mounted the carpeted grand staircase.
Two men.
"Check the master suite," a rough, low voice rasped in the hallway corridor. "The kid is here somewhere. Find him and clear the room."
"What about the bride?" a second voice asked.
"Vanessa said take care of both of them," the first voice replied coldly. "No witnesses."
Claire’s eyes narrowed in the darkness. Vanessa had sent contracted hitmen straight to Daniel’s house before the police security detail could even arrive.
The footsteps stopped directly outside the guest bedroom door.
The brass handle turned slowly.
The oak door creaked open, revealing the tall silhouette of a broad-shouldered man wearing a dark tactical jacket, black gloves, and a ski mask. In his right hand, he held a silenced pistol fitted with a long suppressor tube.
He stepped into the room, sweeping the beam of a high-powered tactical flashlight across the unmade bed.
"Room’s empty!" the man called out over his shoulder. "Check the bathroom!"
As he turned his back to the walk-in closet to step toward the attached master bathroom, Claire made her decision.
She didn't wait to be cornered.
She kicked the closet door open hard, the wood slamming brutally against the gunman’s shoulder, throwing him off balance.
BANG!
Claire pulled the trigger. The gunshot was deafening in the enclosed bedroom, a bright flash of orange muzzle fire cutting through the darkness. The 9mm round caught the gunman square in the upper chest, smashing through his tactical vest.
He let out a choked grunt, stumbling backward against the drywall, his flashlight dropping to the carpet.
"What the fuck?!" the second man roared from the hallway, rushing toward the doorway with his weapon raised.
Claire dropped to one knee, using the bed frame for cover, and fired two rapid shots through the open doorway. The rounds splintered the door frame, sending sharp wooden shrapnel flying into the hall.
"Ah! Shit!" the second gunman screamed, clutching his arm where a bullet ricocheted off the doorframe.
Claire grabbed Noah’s hand as he scrambled out of the closet. "Run! Out the side fire exit!"
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She led the boy through a side connecting door that led down a rear spiral staircase into the kitchen. Behind them, heavy footsteps pounded furiously down the main hallway as the surviving gunman gave chase.
Claire slapped the emergency door release button near the kitchen garage exit, pulled Noah out into the pouring rain, and bolted toward the thick pine woods lining the back property line.
