Chapter 6 - The Breach at Dawn
The first hint of pale gray light was just beginning to break over the Mississippi River when the alarm system tripped.
It didn't sound like a normal security alert. It was a low, guttural sub-bass hum that vibrated through the floorboards of the third-floor nursery, followed instantly by the sharp, rhythmic crack of suppressed gunfire echoing from the front gates.
Della jolted awake in the armchair beside the cribs, her heart leaping into her throat. In the adjoining bedroom, Antoine was already moving. He burst into the nursery within seconds, wearing a tactical vest over a black tactical shirt, a heavy automatic pistol gripped in his right hand. All trace of the weary father was gone; the underworld warlord had taken his place.
"Get down on the floor between the cribs," Antoine ordered, his voice an absolute command that left no room for argument.
"What's happening?" Della cried out, pulling Clara and Leo down against the rug while Mateo whimpered in the corner crib.
"The Rossis," Antoine said coldly, chambering a round with a sharp metallic clack. He turned to the heavy oak door, pressing a wall intercom panel. "Donovan report."
"They breached the north perimeter wall with an armored truck," Donovan’s voice crackled through the speaker, punctuated by the sharp rat-tat-tat of automatic weapons fire in the background. "Sixteen men. Heavy ordnance. They're moving across the courtyard toward the main foyer."
Antoine’s jaw tightened into a granite line. He looked back at Della, his dark eyes burning with a terrifying intensity. "They tracked the vehicle from the diner. They think I'm weak because I spent six months trying to save my children. They're about to find out how wrong they are."
"Antoine, don't go out there," Della pleaded, her hands trembling as she held the terrified toddlers close to her chest. "There are too many of them!"
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"Lock this nursery from the inside," Antoine commanded, his hand resting briefly on the doorframe before he stepped out into the hallway. "If anything happens to me, the panic room behind the bookshelf has a direct line to federal marshals. Do not open this door for anyone except Donovan or me."
The heavy oak door clicked shut, the sound of the deadbolt sliding into place echoing like a death knell through the silent nursery as the sound of gunfire downstairs grew louder and closer.
