Chapter 3 - The Bernese Protocol
The descent of a Caucasian Shepherd down a narrow, enclosed residential staircase is not a tactical movement; it is an avalanche of muscle, fur, and raw territorial fury.
Victor Chong had spent his entire adult life around trained attack dogs—Belgian Malinois and German Shepherds utilized by high-end private security firms. Those dogs were precision instruments: fast, agile, trained to bite and hold an arm or a leg until commanded to release.
Thor was not a precision instrument. He was a livestock guardian bred for centuries to fight off brown bears and wolves in the freezing isolation of the Caucasus Mountains. He did not bite and hold. He used his massive body weight as a blunt force object.
Before Victor could even raise his suppressed pistol, Thor’s chest struck the first tactical operator at the base of the stairs with the force of a low-speed vehicle impact. The man’s breath left him in a loud, wet gasp as he was slammed backward through the drywall of the entryway, his weapon flying from his grip and clattering across the hardwood floor.
The second operator tried to swing his short-barreled carbine toward the dog, but Thor was already moving. The dog’s massive jaws clamped around the man’s forearm—not just the sleeve, but the reinforced Kevlar arm guard beneath it—and twisted his broad head with a sudden, violent snap that threw the two-hundred-pound operative off his feet, crashing through Nia’s glass coffee table in a shower of splintered oak and safety glass.
Victor scrambled backward toward the front door, his thin, aristocratic smile entirely wiped from his face. He raised his pistol, aiming frantically at the massive grey shape moving through the dust and broken drywall of the living room.
"Jyn!" Victor screamed, his voice cracking with sudden, unadulterated terror. "Call him off! Call him off!"
A single, deafening shot rang out—not from Victor’s gun, but from Jyn’s weapon at the top of the stairs.
The heavy bullet tore through the front door frame six inches above Victor’s head, showering him with wooden splinters and plaster dust.
"Drop the weapon, Victor," Jyn’s voice echoed down the stairwell, cold, smooth, and entirely devoid of panic. "Or the next round passes through your right eye."
Victor froze. His hand trembled as he looked down at the floor. Thor was standing two feet away from him, his broad chest covered in drywall dust, his dark eyes fixed on Victor’s throat, a low, subsonic rumble vibrating deep within the dog’s ribcage that rattled the framed family photographs hanging on the wall.
Slowly, carefully, Victor opened his fingers. The suppressed pistol dropped to the carpet with a dull thud.
Behind them, the front door burst open.
Four men in gray tactical gear—Jyn’s primary security detail, led by a tall, scarred man named Kaelen—flooded into the house with their weapons drawn, sweeping the room with professional, methodical efficiency. Within ten seconds, the two downed Chong operatives were disarmed, zip-tied, and dragged out into the rain. Victor was forced onto his knees, his hands secured behind his back with heavy plastic restraints.
Jyn walked down the stairs slowly, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his firearm angled safely toward the floor. He stepped over the debris in his living room, completely ignoring the ruined drywall, the broken glass, and the shattered front door.
He stopped in front of Victor Chong, looking down at him with the cold detachment of a man reviewing an unsatisfactory spreadsheet.
"You broke into a residential home in an American suburb," Jyn said quietly. "You threatened a civilian woman and a toddler. You have violated every term of the 1994 Accord, Victor. The Council of Families will not protect you for this."
Victor looked up, his jaw set, though sweat was beaded thick on his forehead. "You think you can take him to Switzerland, Jyn? You think the Bernese Oberland is safe? My father has men in Zurich. He has men in Geneva. As long as that boy breathes, he is a threat to our holdings. You can't hide a child forever!"
Jyn reached down, retrieved the yellow stuffed duck from the stairs where Thor had dropped it, and brushed a fleck of plaster dust from its plush head.
"I am not hiding him, Victor," Jyn said softly, handing the toy back to Nia, who was standing at the edge of the living room holding the wide-eyed, fascinated toddler. "I am establishing a new foundation. And as of tonight, your family no longer has a seat at the table."
Jyn gestured to Kaelen. "Deliver Mr. Chong and his men to the federal field office in Seattle. Give them the unedited video footage from the interior security cameras. Ensure the local prosecutor understands that any attempt to grant bail will be met with immediate commercial sanctions against the county’s port authorities."
"Understood, sir," Kaelen replied, roughly hauling Victor to his feet and shoving him out the broken front door into the pouring rain.
Nia stood amidst the ruin of her living room. The drywall was gouged, the coffee table was shattered, her front door was hanging off its hinges, and the air smelled heavily of ozone, wet wool, and copper.
Leo reached out from her arms, pointing his small hand toward the massive Shepherd, who was currently sitting amidst the broken glass, looking up at them with his tongue lolling out, looking entirely pleased with himself.
"Thor!" Leo clapped his hands. "Good doggie! Thor fix the door!"
Nia let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-sob. She looked at Jyn, who was standing beside her, adjusting the cuffs of his white dress shirt as if he had just finished a mild physical workout.
"My living room is ruined," she said, her voice shaking slightly as the delayed reaction to the violence began to hit her nervous system.
"I will buy you a new house," Jyn replied simply. "In fact, I have already purchased three in various parts of Europe under anonymous corporate trusts."
"I don't want three houses in Europe, Jyn!" Nia snapped, her temper flaring through the shock. "I want my life! I want my job at the archives! I want my brother to stop sending me tactical updates about black SUVs! I want my son to grow up without men in tactical gear crashing through our drywall!"
Jyn looked at her, his dark eyes absorbing her anger without defense or deflection. He stepped closer, taking her hand—the one still clutching the velvet box containing the diamond ring—and gently closing her fingers over it.
"The life you had twenty minutes ago no longer exists, Nia," Jyn said, his tone softening into something almost gentle. "Not because I willed it, but because the world found out who Leo is. If you stay here, even with my security team posted outside, there will always be another Victor Chong. There will always be another breach team. Another night where a dog has to throw himself down your stairs to keep your child from being taken."
He looked down at the small boy, who was now reaching out to pat Thor’s massive, dust-covered head.
"In the Bernese Oberland," Jyn continued, "there are mountains three thousand meters high. There are security perimeters that have stood for twenty years without a single breach. There is a school, a park, a lake, and a life where he can run without a security guard holding his hand every second. But more than that... he will have his father. And if you allow it... his mother."
Nia looked from Jyn’s intense, uncompromising face down to her son. Leo was laughing, burying his small face in the thick grey fur of Thor’s neck, the massive dog letting out a soft, contented grunt as he leaned his great weight against the toddler’s legs.
She looked at her laptop screen sitting on the ruined kitchen counter. The five black SUVs outside were gone, replaced by the flashing red and blue lights of three Seattle police cruisers parked at the end of the block, their officers standing nervously by their doors, unsure of whether they were allowed to enter the street.
Her phone buzzed one final time on the counter. A text from Marcus: Police chief just ordered a stand-down on your block. Nia, who the hell is this guy?
Nia didn't answer the text. She looked at Jyn.
"If we go to Switzerland," she said, "I want my brother to have a security clearance. I want Zoe to be able to visit whenever she wants. And I want that pink taser my grandmother bought shipped to the compound."
Jyn’s mouth twitched again—that elusive, razor-thin smile. "I will have my legal team issue your brother an executive diplomatic pass. Your friend Zoe can have a guest chalet on the property. As for your grandmother's taser..." He glanced down at Thor, who was currently attempting to chew gently on the plush yellow duck again. "I suspect Thor will find it redundant, but it will be delivered."
May you like
"Then we have thirty-five minutes to catch a plane," Nia said, turning toward the stairs to retrieve Leo’s coat.
"Thirty-two," Jyn corrected softly, following her up the steps, his hand resting on the small of her back—a light, protective touch that felt less like a threat and more like an anchor in the middle of a storm.
