Chapter 6 - The Rain and The Retribution.
The night sky cracked open above the city.
A torrential downpour washed over the neon-lit streets.
The heavy rain was a stroke of absolute luck.
Water severely degraded the thermal imaging cameras surrounding the Sterling estate.
Thomas sat in the back of a matte-black tactical SUV.
He was dressed completely in dark, unmarked combat gear.
Victoria had provided the equipment from the bunker's armory.
She sat across from him, holding a suppressed earpiece.
"Keep this radio in your ear at all times."
Victoria instructed, holding the small device out to him.
"My team will monitor the estate's internal frequencies and guide you."
Thomas looked at the earpiece for a long moment.
He reached out and took it from her palm.
Then, without blinking, he crushed the delicate electronics between his thumb and forefinger.
The plastic snapped into pieces.
He dropped the broken fragments onto the floorboard.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Victoria hissed, her blue eyes widening in shock.
"I am going completely dark."
Thomas answered, his voice devoid of any emotion.
"Marcus will be monitoring every single radio frequency in a ten-mile radius."
"If he detects even a whisper of an encrypted signal, he will move my kids early."
Victoria sighed in deep, frustrated resignation.
"You are a blind man walking into a fortress, Thomas."
"I designed the fortress."
Thomas replied coldly.
The SUV rolled to a silent stop on a deserted dirt road.
They were exactly one mile from the northern edge of the Sterling property.
"The extraction vehicle will wait here until 1:30 AM."
Victoria said, looking at the glowing dashboard clock.
"If you are not back by then, we leave without you."
"I won't be coming back to this road."
Thomas opened the heavy door.
"I am taking my children, and we are taking Marcus's private jet."
He stepped out into the freezing, driving rain.
He closed the door and instantly vanished into the thick treeline.
The forest was completely pitch black.
The heavy canopy of ancient oak trees blocked out the moonlight entirely.
Thomas moved with practiced, deadly silence.
The mud sucked at his tactical boots, but he ignored the resistance.
His broken ribs screamed in pure agony with every step he took.
He forced his mind to lock the pain away in a dark box.
He only thought about his daughter shivering in the attic.
He only thought about the cruelty in Grandma's voice.
After twenty minutes of grueling hiking, the massive perimeter wall appeared through the rain.
It was a twelve-foot-high barrier of solid, reinforced concrete.
A row of wicked steel spikes lined the top edge.
Slow-moving infrared cameras swept the wall every thirty seconds.
Thomas crouched low in the wet ferns.
He counted the seconds in his head.
He knew this specific patrol route perfectly.
He had personally written the software that controlled these cameras three years ago.
He knew that the northern sector had a two-second blind spot when the cameras reset their pan cycle.
Twenty-eight.
Twenty-nine.
Thirty.
The red glowing lenses clicked and rotated backward.
Thomas exploded from the brush.
He sprinted across the open ground with terrifying speed.
He leaped into the air, ignoring the fiery stabbing in his chest.
He grabbed the smooth concrete ledge right between two sharp steel spikes.
He pulled his entire body weight upward in one fluid motion.
He rolled over the top of the wall just as the cameras spun back around.
He dropped silently into the manicured gardens on the other side.
He landed in a crouch, completely hidden by a row of thick hedges.
The sheer scale of the estate loomed before him in the darkness.
The mansion was lit up like a beacon of wealth and arrogance.
Suddenly, a low, guttural growl echoed just inches from his ear.
Thomas froze completely.
He slowly turned his head to the left.
A massive, hundred-pound Doberman stood in the shadows.
Its teeth were bared, and its eyes locked directly onto Thomas's throat.
The dog belonged to the roving security patrols.
If the dog barked, the entire estate would instantly go on high alert.
The Doberman tensed its powerful hind legs to lunge.
Thomas didn't pull a weapon.
He didn't make a sudden move.
He stayed perfectly still and locked eyes with the vicious animal.
"Stand down, Brutus."
Thomas whispered, using a firm, commanding tone.
The dog paused, its ears twitching slightly.
Thomas had visited the estate every Sunday for the past five years.
He used to sneak premium steaks from the kitchen to feed this exact guard dog.
"Sit."
Thomas commanded softly, holding out an empty, open palm.
The Doberman sniffed the air, recognizing Thomas's scent beneath the rain and blood.
The dog let out a soft whine.
It slowly lowered its haunches and sat down on the wet grass.
Thomas exhaled a silent breath of profound relief.
He reached out and patted the dog's wet head once.
"Good boy."
Thomas whispered.
Footsteps suddenly crunched on the gravel path nearby.
A security guard in a heavy rain poncho was walking the perimeter.
He was holding a high-powered flashlight and an assault rifle.
"Brutus, where are you, boy?"
The guard called out into the rain.
Thomas immediately melted backward deeper into the thick bushes.
The flashlight beam swept directly over the spot where Thomas had just been.
The light illuminated the dog sitting peacefully on the grass.
"There you are."
The guard muttered, patting his leg.
"Come on, let's get back to the patrol path."
The dog looked at the bushes one last time before trotting away after the guard.
Thomas waited until the crunching footsteps completely faded away.
He had bypassed the outer perimeter.
Now, he had to get inside the actual house.
The main doors were heavily guarded.
The windows were laced with shatter-sensors and magnetic alarms.
But Thomas knew a secret route.
During the construction of the new wine cellar two years ago, a temporary ventilation shaft had been installed.
Marcus had ordered it sealed with concrete after the project was finished.
But Thomas knew the contractors had taken a shortcut.
They had only covered the vent with a heavy iron grate and painted it to look like solid stone.
Thomas crept along the stone foundation of the massive house.
He found the fake vent hidden behind a large, decorative stone planter.
He slipped his tactical knife from his belt.
He wedged the thick steel blade into the narrow gap between the grate and the wall.
He pulled with all of his remaining strength.
His ribs burned as if they were literally on fire.
The rusted iron groaned softly under the immense pressure.
With a sudden, dull pop, the heavy grate broke free.
Thomas caught it before it could hit the ground and make a sound.
He carefully set the heavy iron aside.
A dark, narrow tunnel stretched out before him, leading straight into the mansion's basement.
He crawled into the tight space headfirst.
The air inside was thick with dust and the smell of old wine.
He shimmied forward on his elbows for fifty feet.
He reached the end of the shaft and looked down through the internal vent cover.
He was directly above the underground security control room.
Four armed guards were sitting at a bank of monitors, drinking coffee.
On the center screen, Thomas could see a live feed of the attic door.
He could see the lock keeping his children trapped inside.
He smiled in the darkness.
It was not a happy smile.
It was the cold, hollow smile of a man who was about to show no mercy.
He placed his hands flat against the internal vent cover.
He prepared to drop directly into the room.
Suddenly, a voice echoed through the basement corridor.
It was a voice Thomas recognized instantly.
"Double the perimeter checks!"
David Chen's voice was shaking with nervous panic.
"Thomas knows the camera blind spots!"
"He's coming, I know he's coming!"
Thomas stopped moving entirely.
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His treacherous former best friend was walking right into the room below him.
The night was about to get incredibly violent.
