CHAPTER 10 The Siege at Blackwood Farm
The first bullet shattered the kitchen window.
Glass exploded across the floor.
Khloe instinctively threw both arms around her stomach and dropped behind the marble island.
Another shot punched through the cabinet above her head.
Wood splintered.
Plates crashed.
Outside, one of Harrison's security men shouted,
"Two vehicles!"
A second voice corrected him.
"No... four!"
Harrison was already moving.
He sprinted from the study, drawing a compact Glock from the small of his back.
Khloe had never seen her brother carry a gun before.
He noticed her expression.
"I hope I never have to use it."
Another burst of gunfire answered for him.
The farmhouse alarm screamed to life.
Hidden steel shutters began sliding over the first-floor windows.
The old house wasn't just a safe house.
It had been fortified.
Eleanor glanced at Harrison.
"You upgraded the judge's place."
"Five years ago."
"For who?"
"My clients."
She gave him a look.
"You were expecting a war long before Richard."
Harrison didn't answer.
Because she was right.
Outside...
Four black SUVs surrounded the property.
None carried license plates.
Eight masked men spread out with military precision.
No shouting.
No panic.
Hand signals only.
Professionals.
One man knelt behind a stone fence and raised binoculars.
"No movement upstairs."
Another replied through an earpiece,
"They're still inside."
The leader spoke calmly.
"Remember the instructions."
"No unnecessary casualties."
"The pregnant woman stays alive."
Inside...
Khloe heard those words through the broken window.
Her blood ran cold.
"They don't want me dead..."
Harrison looked at her.
"They want the baby."
A heavy silence settled over the room.
That possibility had never crossed her mind.
Why keep her alive?
Why specifically protect the baby?
Then Eleanor quietly said,
"What if this was never about revenge?"
"What do you mean?"
She looked directly at Harrison.
"What if someone needs that child alive?"
Before anyone could respond...
A loud metallic clang echoed through the basement.
The motion sensors had detected movement beneath the house.
Harrison's expression changed instantly.
"No..."
"What?"
"They're not attacking."
"They're entering."
He sprinted toward the security room.
A bank of surveillance monitors displayed every angle around the property.
Most cameras showed the attackers holding their positions.
But Camera Twelve...
The old storm cellar.
Its lock had already been cut.
Three men were descending underground.
"They found the tunnel."
Eleanor frowned.
"You never told me about a tunnel."
"I forgot."
She stared at him.
"How do you forget an escape tunnel?"
"I've never used it."
The retired marshal guarding the basement radioed in.
"They're inside!"
Gunfire erupted below.
Three shots.
Pause.
Two more.
Then silence.
Static filled the radio.
No further transmission.
Khloe's breathing became uneven.
"The baby's kicking..."
Harrison looked alarmed.
"Too much stress."
She grabbed the edge of the table.
A sharp pain shot through her abdomen.
Eleanor immediately knelt beside her.
"When did that start?"
"Just now."
Another pain.
Longer this time.
Eleanor's face tightened.
"Harrison..."
"What?"
"We may not have hours."
At that exact moment...
Thirty miles away...
Richard Harrington received a phone call.
"They found the farmhouse."
He remained silent.
"The team is inside."
Another pause.
"They'll have her soon."
Richard looked out his office window.
"No."
"What?"
"Tell them to abort."
The caller hesitated.
"Abort?"
"They've stayed too long."
"They'll attract police."
"But the objective..."
"I changed the objective."
The line went quiet.
Finally, the caller asked,
"Why?"
Richard slowly answered,
"Because Harrison's expecting them."
Back at the farmhouse...
The attackers suddenly began withdrawing.
One by one.
SUVs reversed.
Engines roared.
Within sixty seconds...
They were gone.
Just...
Gone.
Harrison didn't move.
He kept watching the monitors.
Eleanor frowned.
"They're leaving?"
"No."
"They're making us think they are."
Five minutes passed.
Nothing.
Ten minutes.
Still nothing.
Finally, Harrison unlocked the front door.
The yard stood empty.
Shell casings littered the gravel driveway.
The storm cellar door hung open.
One of the retired marshals lay wounded but alive.
The other...
Was gone.
Not dead.
Gone.
Taken.
Inside the tunnel...
Harrison found fresh boot prints leading away from the farmhouse.
Then...
Something unusual.
One black leather glove.
Expensive.
Italian made.
Inside the cuff...
A stitched monogram.
V.S.
Eleanor picked it up carefully.
"Victor Salazar."
"You think so?"
She nodded.
"He wore custom gloves."
"You remember?"
"I interviewed him once."
She turned the glove over.
"This is his."
Just then...
Khloe cried out from inside the house.
Harrison rushed back.
She was sitting on the floor, gripping the edge of a chair.
Sweat covered her forehead.
"I think..."
She gasped.
"My water..."
She looked down.
A clear stream spread across the hardwood floor.
Silence.
Then Eleanor whispered,
"No..."
Khloe looked up in panic.
"It's too early."
Thirty-three weeks.
Seven weeks before her due date.
Harrison grabbed his satellite phone.
"We need an ambulance."
"No."
Eleanor stopped him.
"They'll intercept it."
"What choice do we have?"
She looked toward the window.
"The hospital isn't safe."
Khloe cried out again.
Another contraction.
Closer this time.
Suddenly...
The farmhouse generator shut down.
Every light went dark.
Emergency batteries should have activated.
They didn't.
Someone had cut the backup power.
The house fell into complete silence.
Then...
A baby's lullaby began playing softly from somewhere upstairs.
Khloe froze.
"I know that song..."
It was the melody from the stuffed music box Richard had bought for the nursery months earlier.
No one had brought it to the farmhouse.
The lullaby continued.
Slow.
Gentle.
Impossible.
Eleanor drew her weapon.
"Someone's inside."
Harrison motioned for everyone to stay still.
The lullaby stopped.
A child's voice echoed faintly from the second floor.
"...Mommy?"
Khloe's eyes filled with tears.
It wasn't real.
It couldn't be.
Her daughter hadn't even been born.
Yet the voice came again.
Soft.
Sweet.
"...Mommy..."
Harrison started toward the staircase.
Before he reached the first step...
A small red light blinked beneath the banister.
Eleanor's eyes widened.
"Don't move!"
Harrison froze.
She pointed.
A pressure-sensitive explosive device had been taped beneath the staircase.
The lullaby...
The child's voice...
Had been designed to lure someone forward.
At that same instant, Harrison's satellite phone vibrated with a single encrypted message.
Only four words appeared on the screen:
May you like
Check the ultrasound photos.
End of Chapter 10
