Chapter 35 - The Midnight Breach
The four cartel mercenaries moved silently through the foam-covered, tear-gas-filled kitchen, their thermal optics cutting through the smoke.
Upstairs in the cyber-lab, Ethan’s heart hammered against his ribs. His digital traps had delayed the main force, but the breach in the rear meant the physical threat was now inside his home.
He switched his monitors to the internal camera network. The heavily armed men were sweeping the first floor, moving with terrifying, methodical precision.
They found the basement door.
One of the mercenaries pointed to the heavy steel frame, signaling to the leader. They knew the family was down there.
"No," Ethan whispered, his hands shaking slightly over the keyboard.
The panic room was impenetrable to small arms fire, but these men carried thermal breaching torches. Given enough time, they would cut right through the vault door.
Ethan had to draw them away from the basement. He had to make himself the primary target.
He rapidly typed a command into the house's internal lighting grid.
He isolated the hallway directly outside his bedroom door on the second floor. He turned the lights on full brightness, a blinding beacon in the pitch-black house.
Then, he routed his microphone through the second-floor intercom system.
"Hey!" Ethan’s voice echoed through the massive mansion, loud and clear. "You want the Harpers? I'm up here!"
Downstairs, the mercenary leader immediately halted his men at the basement door. He looked up toward the grand staircase, his thermal optics catching the sudden burst of light on the second floor.
The leader issued a rapid, silent hand signal. The strike team abandoned the basement door and began moving silently up the stairs, their rifles raised, hunting the teenager.
Ethan watched them ascend on the camera feeds.
"Come on," Ethan muttered, his finger hovering over the enter key. "Just a little closer."
The mercenaries reached the top of the stairs, stepping onto the long, carpeted hallway leading directly to Ethan’s closed bedroom door. They stacked up, preparing to breach the room.
Ethan didn't wait for them to kick the door.
He slammed the enter key.
The "Castle Doctrine" protocol executed its secondary phase.
The heavy, decorative iron chandeliers hanging in the second-floor hallway were rigged to electronic winches for easy cleaning. Ethan released the magnetic locks on all three winches simultaneously.
The massive, multi-hundred-pound iron fixtures dropped like anvils from the ceiling.
Two of the mercenaries were instantly crushed beneath the falling iron, incapacitated immediately.
The remaining two scrambled backward in shock, raising their rifles and firing blindly down the hallway.
Bullets tore through the drywall, shattering pictures and tearing into Ethan’s bedroom door.
Ethan dove under his heavy steel desk, covering his head as wood splinters showered the room.
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His traps had thinned their numbers, but the leader was still standing, and he was furious. The heavy thud of combat boots approached the ruined bedroom door.
Ethan closed his eyes. He had bought his family time. He just hoped it was enough.
