sea

Chapter 15 - The Red Protocol

The drive back to Pacific Palisades was a blur of screeching tires and redlining tachometers. Marcus broke every traffic law in California, the black Hellcat roaring like a wounded beast as it tore through the gates of the Vance estate at four in the morning.

The gates were wide open. The biometric locks had been violently forced, their hydraulic pistons sheared clean off by explosive charges.

Marcus abandoned the car in the circular driveway, leaving the engine running and the doors open. He drew his spare Glock from his ankle holster, his primary weapon already in his hand, and breached the front double doors.

The marble foyer was slick with water and broken glass. The crystal chandelier—the replacement Marcus had installed after Victoria's execution of her own plans—hung precariously by two cables, its crystals scattered across the floor like diamonds in a slaughterhouse.

Two private security guards lay motionless near the grand staircase, zip-tied and unconscious, their tactical gear stripped.

Marcus didn't check on them. He bounded up the stairs three at a time, his boots slipping on the slick marble.

"Nathan!" Marcus roared.

No answer.

He reached the private medical wing on the third floor. The reinforced steel door of the laboratory had been blasted off its hinges, the interior gutted by an incendiary charge that had turned the high-tech sequencing equipment into melted plastic and blackened wire.

On the floor beside the scorched central workstation lay Dr. Wallace. A single, clean gunshot wound through the center of his forehead. The biological transport case containing Leo’s blood samples was missing.

Marcus didn't pause to mourn. His entire universe had narrowed to a single room at the end of the western corridor: the nursery.

He kicked the door open, his guns raised in a cross-draw stance, ready to execute anything that moved.

The room was completely quiet.

The blackout drapes were still closed. The amber nightlight still glowed.

Sitting on the floor beside the crib, her back against the white wooden slats, was Clara. The nanny was trembling uncontrollably, her hands covered in blood, clutching a heavy brass lamp she had clearly used as an improvised weapon. Across from her, slumped unconscious against the toy chest, was an operative dressed in unmarked black tactical gear.

"Clara," Marcus commanded, his voice shaking with pure adrenaline. "The boy."

Clara looked up, tears cutting through the grime on her cheeks. She pointed a shaking finger toward the corner closet.

Marcus dropped his secondary weapon, crossed the room in two strides, and ripped the closet door open.

Curled up inside a basket of laundry, holding his plush lion over his face, was Leo. The boy was shivering violently, but he was untouched.

When he heard Marcus's voice, Leo pulled the lion down from his eyes. His little face was streaked with tears, his lips pale blue from terror.

"Daddy...?" the boy whispered, his voice barely audible over the hum of the air purifier. "The bad people... they wanted my lion."

Marcus reached down, hooked his massive arms beneath the child, and lifted him out of the laundry basket, pressing him tightly against his chest. He buried his face in Leo’s soft hair, breathing in the scent of baby shampoo and fear.

"I have you," Marcus whispered, his voice trembling with a ferocious, animalistic protective rage. "I have you, Leo. No one takes you."

Nathan stumbled into the room a moment later, holding a bleeding shoulder, his sidearm drawn. "Marcus... they were after the child. It wasn't an assassination hit. It was an extraction team. They had a chopper on the beach."

"They failed," Marcus said, not letting go of Leo. He turned toward Nathan, his eyes completely devoid of human warmth. "Who sent them?"

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Nathan looked down at the unconscious operative by the toy chest. "We pulled his transponder. He belongs to a private maritime security contractor based out of Marseille. Contracted three weeks ago by a trust registered in the Cayman Islands."

Nathan hesitated, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Marcus... the trust was opened in Elena’s name. Using her biometric thumbprint from three days ago."

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