Chapter 23 - The Blood Key
"Don't touch her!" Cole roared.
Cole didn't hesitate. Ignoring the shotgun in Marcus's grip, Cole threw his entire weight sideways, tackling the massive mercenary directly into the reinforced titanium door.
The heavy impact reverberated through the stone vault like a gunshot. Marcus grunted in surprise, the heavy tactical light flying from his hand and crashing onto the stone floor, casting long, disorienting shadows that spun wildly across the ceiling.
"Marcus, kill him!" Victoria shrieked, stumbling back against the mine tunnel wall.
Marcus swung the butt of the combat shotgun around with brutal force, catching Cole across the ribs. Cole gasped as the breath was driven from his lungs, but he refused to let go, his arms locked around the mercenary’s waist, driving him back toward the open mine shaft drainage channel.
"Rebecca! The breaker!" Cole choked out, blood spitting from his split lip. "The surge breaker behind the rack!"
I didn't waste a second. While I had renovated the lodge, I hadn't just painted walls and sanded floors. I had studied every blueprint my father had hidden in his desk. The cellar wasn't just a vault; it was equipped with an industrial-grade de-icing system designed to run high-voltage heating cables through the exterior rock to prevent frost heaves from crushing the foundation.
I dove across the rough stone floor, my knees slamming hard against the gravel, and reached behind the steel supply rack. My fingers found the heavy, rubber-coated handle of the industrial three-phase bypass switch.
Marcus threw Cole off him with a savage heave, sending Cole crashing into the wooden support beams. The mercenary spun toward me, bringing the shotgun up to his shoulder, the muzzle pointing directly between my eyes.
"Say goodnight, boss's daughter," Marcus growled.
I slammed the heavy breaker switch down.
A high-pitched, deafening electrical whine ripped through the chamber as forty thousand volts of raw current surged from the emergency generator backup batteries directly into the copper grounding rods buried in the wet gravel beneath Marcus’s steel-reinforced combat boots.
The blue arc that erupted across the floor was blinding. Marcus’s entire body seized in a rigid, violent spasm. The shotgun flew from his hands, firing a blast of heavy buckshot harmlessly into the vaulted stone ceiling, showering us in pulverized granite.
The mercenary collapsed backward into the wet shale channel, twitching once before going entirely limp, the smell of ozone and singed fabric filling the enclosed space.
Victoria stood frozen, her eyes wide with unmitigated horror, her hands trembling as she clutched the titanium box to her chest.
"You're insane..." she stammered, backing toward the stone stairs. "You're just like your father. Both of you... insane."
Before she could take another step, a sharp, metallic voice echoed down from the top of the stairwell.
"Put the box down, Victoria. Hands where I can see them."
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Standing on the third step, his service weapon drawn with both hands and his uniform shirt torn and bloodstained, was Deputy Miller. Behind him, looking completely terrified, stood Evelyn, holding an antique cast-iron frying pan she had used to smash the back door lock to let the deputy loose.
***
