Chapter 17 - THE FORTY-EIGHT HOUR COUNTDOWN
Wednesday morning arrived with a biting, clear frost that turned the lawn of the Beacon Hill estate into a carpet of sparkling white glass.
Inside the subterranean sanctuary behind the west wall, the temperature remained perfectly regulated, the soft warm lighting creating a safe, insulated bubble away from the rising storm outside.
Leo and Mia were sitting side by side on the built-in cot. Leo was reading aloud from a children's adventure book Roman had brought down from the upper library, his young voice clear and steady as Mia rested her head against his shoulder, sucking her thumb peacefully.
The hidden steel bulkhead disengaged with its familiar pneumatic hiss, and Roman stepped down the carpeted stairs.
He carried a small duffel bag over his shoulder. Today, he wasn't wearing his dark executive suits. He wore heavy tactical trousers, a dark fitted long-sleeve thermal, and a heavy leather holster rig strapped across his muscular chest, carrying two customized 9mm sidearms.
Leo set his book down immediately, his eyes tracking the weapons strapped across Roman's chest.
"It's time?" Leo asked, his voice steady.
Roman dropped to one knee before the children, unzipping the duffel bag and setting it open on the folding table. Inside were two small, high-density ballistic vests designed specifically for children, along with fresh clothing, warm winter coats, and fake identification documents printed with pristine federal security clearances.
"Tomorrow night is the summit," Roman explained gently, looking into Leo's eyes. "Tonight, before the snow hits the city, Clara's team will be arriving at the rear gate in a private medical transport. You and Mia will be moved out of Boston before I step onto Pier 4."
Mia looked up, her small brow furrowed in worry. "Are you coming with us, Uncle Roman?"
Roman reached out, taking her tiny hand in his broad palm. "I will follow you twelve hours later, little one. I have to stay behind to close the door on the bad men."
"What if the man in the coat comes back?" Mia asked, looking toward the carpeted stairs leading to the upper wall.
"The man in the coat works for us now," Roman said, a quiet edge of cold satisfaction in his voice. "He is currently sitting at the front gate telling Marcus Vance exactly what I want him to hear."
He turned his attention back to Leo, pulling the boy closer.
"Listen to me carefully, Leo," Roman commanded, his voice grave and absolute. "When Clara takes you tonight, you do not use your real names. You do not speak to anyone outside the transport. You keep the emergency transmitter in your pocket until you land in Montreal. Do you understand?"
Leo nodded firmly. "Montreal. Uncle Julian told me about the house near the lake."
Roman felt a swell of pride in his chest. Julian had trained his son well. Even at seven years old, Leo possessed the intelligence, discipline, and instinct required to survive in the brutal world they had been born into.
"Yes," Roman said softly. "The house near the lake. It is safe, warm, and surrounded by forest. You will be free there."
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He picked up the small ballistic vests from the duffel bag, carefully fitting the lightweight armor over Leo's sweater, adjusting the Velcro straps until they fit snugly against the boy's chest.
"Now, put your coats on," Roman said, standing up. "The night is coming fast. And when the sun sets, we make our move."
