Chapter 15 - The Approach of Sirens
Before Julian could lunge toward me, a low, rumbling vibration shook the foundations of the old mansion.
It wasn't the sound of a glitching security system. It was the unmistakable, deep thrum of heavy diesel engines roaring up the long, winding gravel drive of the estate.
Wee-oo, wee-oo.
The piercing wail of multiple federal tactical cruisers cut through the night air, their blinding red and blue strobe lights flashing violently through the high basement windows, painting the concrete walls in frantic hues.
Julian’s face drained of color in an instant. The arrogance melted away, replaced by a desperate, feral panic. He realized the silent alarm hadn't been a glitch—it had reached the state attorney general’s office directly.
“You bitch,” Julian snarled, abandoning Clara entirely, his gaze locking onto me with pure, murderous intent. He lunged forward, the hunting knife slashing through the air toward my throat.
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I swung the heavy fire extinguisher with all my remaining strength, catching him square across the jaw. The metal impact echoed like a gunshot. Julian staggered backward, losing his footing on the slick concrete floor, and crashed hard against the washing machine, the knife clattering out of his hand.
Before he could recover, heavy boots thundered down the hidden stairwell, and three federal marshals in tactical gear swarmed the room, pinning Julian face-down to the floor and snapping heavy steel handcuffs onto his wrists.
