Chapter 5 - An Unlikely Alliance
I led Claire down the hidden staircase behind the library bookshelf into my private armory. Behind heavy steel doors lay an arsenal capable of outfitting a small squad: tactical shotguns, suppressed carbines, body armor, and crates of high-grade ammunition.
Watching Claire evaluate the hardware was surreal. She picked up a customized M4A1 rifle, checked the bolt carrier group with practiced ease, slapped in a thirty-round magazine, and pressed the press-check without looking. She fitted a tactical vest over her maid's uniform, pulling her dark hair back into a tight bun.
"You handle weapons like a team commander," I observed, strapping on a heavy Kevlar plate carrier and chambering a round into my own weapon.
"In a surgical field unit, you learn to fight first and stitch later," she replied coldly. "Here is the plan, Mr. Vale. They want you. They know your signature fighting style. You draw their main breach team into the central foyer where you have cover behind the marble pillars. I will take the upper balcony catwalks and flank them from above."
Just as we prepared to move, a small shadow stepped out from the doorway behind us. It was Emma, holding her favorite worn teddy bear in one hand. She walked up to Claire and held out her small hand.
"Don't leave, Claire," Emma murmured softly, her small voice clear despite three years of absolute silence. "Keep us safe."
Claire knelt down to eye level with my youngest daughter, resting her gloved hand gently on Emma's shoulder. "I won't let anyone hurt you or your sisters, sweetheart. I promise. Now go back inside the safe room with Ava and lock the door."
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I watched the interaction with a lump in my throat. Claire Whitman had accomplished in six weeks what five years of top child psychologists couldn't do. I looked at her with newfound respect. "Let's go kill these bastards."
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