Chapter 7: The Final Line of Defense
Marcus knocked gently on the heavy oak door of the master suite.
“Go away! I’m not talking to you!” Elena’s voice was strained, thick with tears.
“Elena? I’m Marcus Webb. I’m the new Director of Defense. I need to talk to you about Sarah.“
The mention of her daughter’s name caused a pause. After a moment, the lock turned.
Elena opened the door, her hair disheveled, her expensive blouse stained with tears. Behind her, seven-year-old Sarah sat on the massive bed, clutching a stuffed unicorn, her eyes red and puffy.
She was only a year older than Lily. The resemblance, in their shared innocence, hit Marcus like a physical blow.
“Where are the police? They are supposed to be here! Why am I locked in with bodyguards?” Elena demanded, her voice shaking.
Marcus didn’t answer. He walked into the room, maintaining a calm, unthreatening posture. He knelt down in front of Sarah.
“That’s a cool unicorn,” Marcus said softly. “What’s its name?“
“Sparkle,” Sarah whispered.
Marcus smiled, a genuine smile that reached his weary eyes. “Sparkle. That’s a good name. My daughter has a dog named Unicorn.“
“A dog named Unicorn?” Sarah giggled, wiping a tear away with her fist.
Marcus stood up, facing Elena. He kept his tone conversationally soft, but the urgency underneath was unmistakable.
“Elena, we don’t have much time. I know you don’t trust us. You want the police. But the police are not the answer today.”
“They are my escort! They keep me safe in the courtroom!“
“In the courtroom, yes. But the cartel has resources the police cannot match. They use money. They buy people. That leak that Jennifer found? It’s not a rumor. Someone close to you, someone you work with, sold your daughter’s life to the Sinaloa cartel.”
Elena gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “No. No, I know my team.“
“Do you know them well enough to bet her life?” Marcus asked, pointing at Sarah.
Elena stared at her daughter. Her shoulders slumped in defeat.
“What… what are we going to do?”
“I’m moving your team from standard security to an active combat posture,” Marcus explained, his Force Recon brain now fully engaged. “We are going to turn this safe house into a target. They will come here thinking they are picking you up from a hiding spot.“
“A target?” Jennifer asked, standing in the doorway, Miller at her side looking stunned.
“They think they are playing cat and mouse,” Marcus explained. “They don’t know the mouse is Force Recon.“
Marcus turned to Miller. “Miller, get your team. I want claymores on the driveway, hidden in the garbage cans. No lethal unless they breach the front porch. I want gas canisters on the back porch.”
“Wait, gas?” Miller asked. “What kind?“
“Tear gas, smoke. They aren’t going to care about standard rules of engagement, and neither am I.”
He looked back at Elena. “You and Sarah need to get in the master closet. We’ve fortified it. It’s not ideal, but it’s the safest spot in the house. You don’t come out. Not for me, not for Jennifer, not for a fire. Not until I personally come and get you.“
The plan was bold. It was dangerous. It involved using explosives and chemical agents in a residential area. This is why Force Recon operators are rarely seen in civilian security. The line had been crossed. The war had begun.
