Chapter 5 - Midnight Siege
By one in the morning, the rain had turned into a steady, freezing drizzle that rattled against the windowpanes.
Victoria sat at the wooden kitchen table, wrapping her hands around the ceramic mug. The warmth was finally returning to her fingers, but her mind was racing through the corporate landscape of Sterling Horizon.
"Gerald Forsythe," she said, her voice hard as steel as the pieces began falling into place. "He wanted to push through the Singapore acquisition last month. I vetoed it because the valuation felt inflated by forty percent. If I die before the shareholder vote on Thursday..."
"He inherits the interim chair," Adrien finished, sitting opposite her with an iPad connected to an encrypted private network. "And the acquisition goes through. Who holds the security contract for the Singapore firm?"
Victoria froze. "Vanguard Tactical. A private defense contractor based out of Virginia."
"Vanguard," Adrien murmured. "Ex-special operations mercenaries. They hire guys who got kicked out of the service for failing psychological evals or taking bribes in Kabul. That explains the shooter at the Hyatt."
He looked down at his iPad. A red light was blinking on a map overlay of Queens.
"What is that?" Victoria asked, leaning forward.
"A cell tower ping," Adrien said smoothly. "When we left the Hyatt, I pulled the battery out of my phone. Did you turn yours off?"
Victoria’s hand went to her silver clutch. "I... I put it on silent."
Adrien stood up instantly. "Hand it to me."
She fished her iPhone out of her purse and handed it to him. Adrien didn't bother turning it off. He walked to the sink, dropped the five-hundred-dollar device into a glass of salt water, and pushed it under.
"They've been tracking your GPS since we left Manhattan," he said, his voice dropping into that terrifying, flat tone. "They know we're in this neighborhood. We have maybe six minutes before they find this block."
Victoria stood up, panic instantly surging back into her chest. "We have to run! We have to get in the car!"
"The car has a tracking transponder built into the dash, Ms. Sterling," Adrien said, walking calmly to the hallway closet. "If we get in the Mercedes, we're driving into an ambush."
He opened the closet, pulled out a heavy steel pelican case from beneath a stack of winter coats, and set it on the table.
He popped the two brass latches.
Inside lay a black Sig Sauer P226 pistol, four spare magazines, a tactical flashlight, and a pair of lightweight Kevlar vests.
Victoria stared at the weapons, her heart pounding against her ribs like a sledgehammer. "Walker... what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to protect my house," Adrien said.
He walked to the base of the stairs and called up softly. "Lily."
The girl appeared at the top of the stairs within three seconds. She was already wearing her sneakers and carrying a small backpack. She didn't look scared; she looked prepared, the way a child looks when she has practiced a fire drill fifty times.
"Safe room?" Lily asked quietly.
"Safe room," Adrien nodded. "Take Ms. Sterling down. Lock the hatch from the inside. Do not open it for anyone unless you hear my voice give the code word."
"What's the code word?" Victoria asked, her eyes wide with fear.
Lily looked at her with a calm, solemn expression. "Dayton," the little girl said. "It's always Dayton."
Before Victoria could protest, Lily grabbed her hand with a grip that was surprisingly strong for a nine-year-old and pulled her toward the pantry at the back of the kitchen.
Behind a row of canned soup and dry pasta lay a heavy reinforced steel door leading down into a reinforced concrete storm cellar—built by Adrien three years ago after Diane died, when his paranoia about keeping his daughter safe was at its absolute peak.
"In," Lily commanded, pushing the CEO of Sterling Horizon into the dark cellar.
Victoria looked back one last time through the narrowing crack of the door.
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Adrien Walker was standing in the center of his dark kitchen, the Sig Sauer held in a low-ready position, his silhouette framed by the faint yellow glow of the streetlamp outside.
The front door glass shattered into a hundred pieces.
