Chapter 4 - The Breach at the Gate
"Hold your positions at the gate!" Marco yelled into his collar microphone, pulling a high-caliber pistol from his shoulder holster. "Do not engage until I reach the courtyard!"
"Adrien, stay inside!" Dr. Gable pleaded, backing away toward the inner corridor.
"This is my home," I said coldly.
I reached into the concealed panel beside the nursery doorway, pulling out a sleek, suppressed semi-automatic handgun. I checked the chamber with a swift, practiced motion.
"Elena, take Sophie and the triplets into the sub-basement panic room," I ordered, turning to my housekeeper. "Lock the steel door from the inside. Do not open it for anyone except me or Marco. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mr. Moretti!" Elena nodded frantically, gathering Sophie into her arms while the three nannies rushed toward the elevator carrying the quieted infants.
I walked down the grand marble staircase of the mansion alongside Marco and four heavily armed security operators. Outside, the night air was freezing, snow starting to drift down through the tall oak trees lining the driveway.
At the main security gate—three hundred yards down the winding asphalt driveway—the headlights of a heavy black sedan suddenly ignited, blinding the perimeter guards.
The engine roared. The heavy vehicle smashed through the wrought-iron gate with a deafening crunch of metal and shattering glass, tearing up the gravel driveway directly toward the main courtyard.
"Fire!" Marco commanded.
Suppressor-muffled gunshots echoed across the grounds as my security team opened fire on the sedan's engine block and heavy reinforced tires. The vehicle skidded sideways, its front axle collapsing as it slammed into the stone fountain in the center of the driveway, coming to a smoking halt.
Silence settled over the estate once again, broken only by the hiss of steam leaking from the sedan's shattered radiator.
Marco and two operators advanced on the wreck, their weapons raised, tactical lights cutting through the white steam.
"Driver is dead," Marco called out five seconds later. "Impact broke his neck. But Boss... look at his coat."
I walked across the wet gravel, stepping up to the driver's side of the crushed sedan.
The driver was wearing a tactical vest, but pinned to his lapel was a silver emblem—a coiled viper surrounding an iron coin.
The mark of the Falcone Crime Family.
"Falcone," I spat, my jaw clenching tightly.
"They didn't come to assassinate you, Boss," Marco said, leaning into the shattered rear seat of the sedan. He pulled out a heavy black leather briefcase that had been thrown onto the floorboard during the crash. "They brought this."
Marco popped the brass latches of the briefcase.
Inside lay three thick, leather-bound ledgers, fifty encryption key drives, and a high-grade satellite transmitter.
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"What is that?" I asked.
"It's the master financial ledger for the Falcone Syndicate's offshore accounts," Marco whispered, his eyes wide with shock. "And their private informant list. Boss... this driver wasn't an attacker. He was an insider fleeing from Falcone. He was coming here to trade this information for protection."
