Chapter 6 - THE GHOST RETURNS
Splinters of wood and drywall rained down on them.
"Panic room! Now!" Roman roared, shoving Maya and Elara toward the hallway bookshelf. He reached behind a fake encyclopedia and ripped a lever downward. The bookshelf swung open, revealing a reinforced steel door.
Maya pushed Elara inside, turning back just as three armed men stormed the kitchen.
Roman didn't retreat. He stepped into the fatal funnel of the hallway, firing three rapid shots. Two men dropped. The third tackled Roman through the drywall into the living room.
"Roman!" Maya screamed.
"Lock the door!" Roman bellowed, grappling with the massive intruder as a knife flashed in the dim light.
Maya slammed the heavy steel door shut, throwing the deadbolt just as a bullet ricocheted off the other side. The panic room was small, lit by emergency LEDs, lined with monitors displaying the house's security cameras.
Elara was sobbing, burying her face in Maya's legs. Maya picked the little girl up, rocking her, her eyes glued to the security feed.
On the screen, Roman was losing. His injured shoulder slowed him down. The intruder drove a knee into Roman’s ribs, pinning him to the floor, raising the knife.
Maya couldn't watch him die. She scanned the panic room. There was a wall panel labeled EMERGENCY OVERRIDE. Below it, a button marked INCENDIARY FOAM - LIVING QUARTERS.
She smashed the glass with her elbow and slammed her fist onto the button.
On the monitors, thick white chemical foam burst from the ceiling vents in the living room, blinding and suffocating the intruder. The man dropped his knife, choking, stumbling toward the front door. Roman coughed, rolling away.
"He's safe," Maya whispered to Elara, crying in relief.
Ten minutes later, the foam settled. Roman pounded on the steel door. Maya opened it. He was battered, covered in white chemicals, and bleeding, but alive.
He stumbled into the panic room, leaning against the wall, sliding down to the floor. "Thank you," he breathed, looking at Maya with something akin to awe.
But Maya was staring at the monitor showing the front driveway.
A sleek black Mercedes had just pulled up through the foam and wreckage. An older man with silver hair stepped out, flanked by guards. It was Roman's father, Victor Cassian.
And stepping out of the passenger side, looking perfectly healthy, dressed in an expensive designer coat, was a man Maya hadn't seen in three years.
David.
May you like
Maya’s knees buckled. "David?" she choked out, pointing at the screen.
Roman looked up at the monitor. His face hardened. "He didn't just fake his death to escape my father, Maya. He faked his death to work for him."
