Chapter 15 - The Subterranean Labyrinth
The flash-bang turned the grand foyer into pandemonium. Shrieks and disoriented shouts echoed through the smoke, followed by Julian firing a disciplined volley into the disoriented mercenary squad below.
“Down! Now!” Julian pulled me by the elbow, dragging Victoria along by the collar of her silk robe as she stumbled blindly.
We plunged into the kitchen and ripped through the heavy oak door that led down into the wine cellar. The temperature dropped instantly. The damp chill of stone and aging oak barrels enveloped us, but the safety was an illusion. From the floors above, the steady thrum of heavy tactical boots told us Alexander’s men were sweeping room by room with professional ruthlessness.
Julian slammed the reinforced cellar door and threw the twin deadbolts. He grabbed a heavy iron pry bar from a tool rack and jammed it under the handle, wedging it against the uneven flagstone floor.
“That’ll give us three minutes,” Julian said, breathing hard. Sweat tracked through the soot on his brow. “Mother, the access panel.”
Victoria, shaking violently, moved toward the back of the cellar where rows of vintage Bordeaux lined the damp wall. She pushed aside an empty wooden rack, revealing a tarnished brass keyhole set directly into the natural bedrock. “Julian, the Vanderbilt accounts are keyed to the child’s retinal scan. Alexander doesn’t just want her as a hostage. He knows about Ethan Vanderbilt’s offshore reserve in Zurich. It’s worth four billion dollars. He bought the syndicate’s army with promises of that payout.”
I looked down at Maya. The five-year-old was shivering, clutching her silver locket. “Elena,” she whispered, her lip quivering. “My grandpa said bad men would look for the shiny box. Is the tall man bad?”
“He is, sweetheart,” I whispered, kneeling to smooth her tangled curls. “But Julian is stronger. And we are going to keep you safe. I promise you.”
“Elena, take this,” Julian said, pressing a compact nine-millimeter pistol into my hands. It was cold, heavy, and terrifyingly real. “If the door gives before you reach the tree line, don’t hesitate. Center mass.”
“Julian—”
Suddenly, the reinforced door bucked with a violent clang. A hydraulic ram was hitting it from the outside. The stone frame cracked, shedding dry mortar.
“Blackwood stock has fallen, little brother!” Alexander’s mocking drawl filtered through the heavy wood. “Did you really think old Ethan died without telling someone? He told me everything right before his heart gave out on that clinic bed in Geneva. Now open the door, or I pump aerosolized cyanide through the ventilation shaft!”
Julian’s face darkened with absolute fury. “He killed Ethan,” he whispered. “He staged the cardiac arrest.”
“Julian, go through the passage!” Victoria wept, tugging at his jacket. “Save them!”
Julian ignored her, his eyes locked on the bowing iron hinges of the cellar door. “Elena, get in the chute. Mother, guide her. The moment you are through, hit the red toggle inside the shaft. It triggers an old counterweight cave-in that will seal this tunnel behind you.”
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“What about you?” I cried, tears finally stinging my eyes. “Julian, no! We go together!”
“He’s going to trigger the thermite charges if he realizes we escaped,” Julian said, his voice dropping into that fierce, protective murmur that shattered my heart. He took my face in both his hands, pressing a desperate, searing kiss to my lips that tasted of gunpowder and rain. “I have to disable the receiver in the library. I will find you by the river. I swear on my life, Elena. Run!”