Chapter 3 - The Countermeasure
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Dante pulled his encrypted satellite phone from the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He didn't dial the standard security desk in the lobby; Evelyn had already confirmed they were compromised. He hit a single speed-dial number reserved for absolute emergencies.
“Silas,” Dante said the moment the line connected.
“Boss,” came the gruff, immediate reply of his most trusted lieutenant.
“The penthouse is compromised. Cole and Whitaker have bought the night shift. They are hitting the building at midnight,” Dante barked out the orders with clinical precision. “I want you to mobilize the ghosts. Shut down the surrounding city blocks. Nobody leaves the perimeter alive.”
“Understood. We are ten minutes out. Do we secure the lobby?”
“No,” Dante replied, a dark, dangerous smile touching the corners of his mouth. “Let them ride the elevators up. Cut the primary power to the building at eleven forty-five. Trap them in the shafts. Anyone who makes it to the penthouse floor is mine.”
He hung up the phone and turned his attention back to Evelyn. The older woman was shivering, watching him dismantle her husband’s flawless assassination plot in less than sixty seconds.
“Get up,” Dante ordered Evelyn.
When she hesitated, he grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to her feet. He dragged her out of the sunroom and down the long corridor toward the master suite. He shoved her inside his massive walk-in closet.
“Dante, you can't lock me in here!” Evelyn shrieked, banging her fists against the heavy mahogany door.
“You are going to sit in the dark and pray that I survive tonight,” Dante said through the wood. “Because if Cole’s men breach this apartment, they won't care that you're Whitaker’s wife. They will slaughter everyone inside to leave no witnesses.”
He threw the heavy deadbolt, silencing her protests. He turned around to find Elena standing in the hallway, watching him. She wasn't shaking anymore. She looked remarkably calm.
“We have twenty minutes,” she stated.
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“You need to hide in the panic room,” Dante told her, stepping toward her. “It’s behind the library bookcase. The steel is rated for explosives.”
“I am not hiding,” Elena refused, lifting her chin. “I know the layout of this penthouse better than any of Cole’s men. I’m staying with you.”
