Chapter 47
Above ground, the outer defenses of the estate finally buckled under the sheer, desperate volume of the Phantom’s suicide squad. Silas and Marco were forced to execute a tactical retreat into the grand foyer of the mansion, utilizing the narrow chokepoints of the marble hallways to funnel the enemy fire.
The heavy oak front doors were blown inward by a massive RPG blast, sending splintered wood and marble shrapnel flying through the air. Through the settling smoke and debris, the Phantom finally appeared. He wore heavy tactical armor, his face scarred and twisted with a manic, triumphant grin. He leveled a heavy assault rifle directly at Silas, who was pinned behind a shattered marble pillar, his ammunition running dangerously low.
"It's over, Vance!" the Phantom roared, his voice echoing through the ruined hall. "Your money is gone, but I will take your life and your throne!"
Before Silas could draw his secondary weapon, the estate’s central intercom system crackled to life. Clara’s voice, amplified and echoing with chilling, godlike authority, filled the grand foyer.
"I suggest you look down at your feet, Phantom."
On the massive digital displays in the security rotunda, the thermal blueprints of the estate illuminated, flashing with angry, pulsating red dots deep within the foundation. A computerized voice announced smoothly: "Thermobaric fail-safe protocol initiated. T-minus three minutes to total structural vaporization."
"I triggered the scorched earth protocol," Clara’s voice cut through the silence like a scalpel. "In exactly three minutes, this entire estate, and the ground beneath it, will be reduced to ash. Every external titanium blast door has just been permanently magnetically sealed. No one is getting out."
The Phantom froze, his eyes darting frantically to the heavy steel shutters that had just slammed down over the windows. Total, paralyzing horror washed over the remaining mercenaries.
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"You're bluffing!" the Phantom shrieked, aiming his rifle wildly at the ceiling speakers. "You're down there! You'll kill yourself and your son!"
"Do you really think I fear death?" Clara laughed softly, a sound so dark and unyielding it made the blood in the mercenaries' veins run cold. "You chose the wrong woman to push into a corner. Drop your weapons, or we all go straight to hell together."
