Chapter 5 - Shadows in the Safe Room
By the time Emmett’s SUV tore through the shattered iron gates of his estate, the gunfire had ceased. The mansion stood in an eerie, smoking silence beneath the winter sky. Emmett didn't wait for the vehicle to fully stop; he threw the door open and sprinted into the house, his weapon drawn, his face a mask of absolute fury.
The foyer was a warzone. Bullet holes riddled the plaster walls, and the scent of cordite and blood was overpowering.
“Tommy!” Emmett roared, rushing into the ruined library.
He found Tommy sitting against the overturned mahogany desk, clutching a bleeding shoulder wound. Two of Emmett’s guards lay dead nearby, but four of Victor’s mercenaries were also neutralized on the floor.
“Emmett…” Tommy groaned, his face pale from blood loss. “They… they didn't get her. Mrs. Ingrid got her to the safe room. But Victor’s lead guy… he realized there was a hidden passage. He went in after them.”
Emmett didn't waste another second. He lunged toward the hidden panel in the bookshelf, which had been blown open with a small C4 charge. He tore through the narrow stone corridor, his heart pounding against his ribs like a sledgehammer.
At the end of the passage, the heavy steel door of the safe room was ajar.
Inside, Mrs. Ingrid lay unconscious on the floor, a nasty bruise forming on her temple where she had been struck down. Standing over her was a towering mercenary in tactical gear, his hand tightly gripping Luna’s arm. The little girl was fighting with everything she had, biting his hand and kicking his shins, refusing to give up.
“Let go of me! Let go!” Luna screamed.
“Shut up, you little brat,” the mercenary growled, raising a heavy fist to strike her into silence.
He never got the chance.
Emmett entered the room like a specter of death. Before the mercenary could even register his presence, Emmett closed the distance, grabbing the man’s raised arm and snapping it with a sickening crack. The man screamed, dropping Luna, who scrambled into the corner.
What followed was a display of sheer, unadulterated violence. Emmett didn't use his gun; he used his bare hands, channeling every ounce of rage, guilt, and protective instinct he possessed into the man who dared lay a hand on the child. Within seconds, the mercenary was broken and bleeding on the floor, gasping for air under Emmett’s heavy boot.
“Who sent you?” Emmett hissed, pressing his boot down onto the man’s crushed windpipe. “Where is Victor keeping Diana?”
“The… the old Swift plant…” the man choked out, his eyes wide with the realization that he was looking at his executioner. “Basement level three… under the old slaughterhouse… he’s going to kill her tonight… the FBI drop is set for midnight…”
Emmett stared down at him for a cold, merciless second, then turned his back, ignoring the man as he slumped into unconsciousness.
Emmett knelt down in front of Luna. The little girl was shaking violently, her eyes overflowing with tears. He expected her to shrink away from him, given the violence she had just witnessed.
Instead, Luna threw her small arms around Emmett’s neck, burying her face into his wool coat. She sobbed uncontrollably, her tiny body trembling against his broad chest.
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Emmett froze. He had never held a child in his life. He didn't know how to comfort someone so fragile. But slowly, instinctively, he wrapped his large, powerful arms around her, holding her tight, shielding her from the horrors of the room.
“I’ve got you,” Emmett whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “You’re safe, Luna. I promise you, you’re safe.”
