Chapter 5 - The Laundry Chute Assault
By five o'clock in the morning, the rain had settled into a dense, thick fog creeping off Lake Michigan.
Using the cramped, dusty service shafts constructed for Victorian domestic staff, I led Raphael and Julian up through the inner walls of the mansion. The space was tight, filled with copper pipes and electric wiring, but it completely bypassed the modern motion sensors Victor's men had hijacked.
Raphael moved right behind me, his hand constantly hovering near my waist, steadying me whenever we climbed a narrow iron ladder, his protective instincts fierce despite his injury.
We reached the brass access grate situated behind the heavy mahogany wall unit in Raphael's second-floor study.
Looking through the narrow wooden slats, I could see the study was in ruin. Antique leather books had been swept off shelves, oil paintings slashed open, and the heavy executive desk overturned. Two of Victor's men were lounging on the velvet sofa, automatic rifles resting across their knees, drinking from Raphael's crystal decanters.
"Where the hell is Victor?" one guard grumbled, checking his watch. "Dominic's summit starts in thirty minutes."
"He's checking the lower garage," the second guard grunted. "Just keep looking for that damn keycard."
I leaned closer to Raphael, pointing toward the heavy wall sconce beside the fireplace.
It's not on the desk, I signed silently with my fingers, remembering the evening six months ago when I had knocked the brass fitting loose while dusting. The keycard is hidden inside the sconce frame.
Raphael's eyes flared with realization. He nodded once, then tapped Julian's shoulder.
"On my mark," Raphael whispered.
Before I could react, Raphael slammed his boot into the access grate.
The iron frame burst outward, striking the first guard squarely in the chest and knocking him over the coffee table. Raphael stepped out of the wall like a vengeful ghost, firing two silenced rounds before the second guard could even raise his weapon. Both men dropped instantly into the plush carpet.
"Move!" Raphael ordered, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the room while Julian barred the main study doors with a heavy brass chair.
Raphael rushed straight to the wall sconce, twisted the base counter-clockwise, and pulled a thin, black metallic keycard from the hollow bracket.
"Got it," Raphael said, turning toward the hidden steel vault behind the main wall.
Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the study exploded inward in a shower of wood splinters and shattered glass.
May you like
The shockwave knocked me off my feet, sending me skidding across the rug toward the overturned desk. Through the swirling black smoke, Victor Vance stepped into the room holding a heavy combat shotgun, flanked by four heavily armed mercenaries.
"End of the line, Boss," Victor sneered, leveling the barrel straight at Raphael's head.
