Chapter 211
Victor screamed, dropping the ruined weapon and clutching his stinging fingers.
Before he could run, two of Alistair’s men tackled him into the mud.
Skye didn’t stop for him. She ran up the porch steps, stumbling once before catching herself on the railing, and kicked the front door open.
“Arthur” she yelled.
The foyer was empty. Suits www piled near the door. Aunt Petunia was there, frantically stuffing jewelry into a Hermès hag She looked up, her face a mask of terror.
“Skyet” Petunia gasped. “It wasn’t mat it was Victor! He made m
Skye crossed the marble floor in three strides. She grabbed Petunia by the pearl necklace she was wearing-pearls that had belonged to Skye’s mother.
“Where is he?” Skye anarled, twisting the necklace until Petunia choked.
“Basement!” Petunia whewed. “Boiler room!”
Skyw shoved her sway. Petunia fell onto the pile of suitcases
Alistair entered the foyer, gan drawn but lowered. He signaled a guard to watch Petunia.
“Clear the house.”
Skyw was already running to the basement door. She threw it open and descended into the darkness. The smell hit her first mold, rust, and the metallic tang of old blood.
“Daddy?” she called out, her voice trembling.
A single ball hung from the ceiling. Beneath it, Arthur Starling was slumped against a copper pipe. His hands were zip-tiedo tightly his fingers were purple. His face was gray, his breathing shallow and rattling.
Skyfall to her knews in the dirty water covering the floor. She fumbled for the haton in her hand, here.
“Alistair!” she screamed.
Navigate yon below.com
Alistair appeared instantly. He saw the zip ties. He holstered him and pulled out a serrated tactical knife. With surgical precision, he cut the plastic bonds.
Arthur groaned, alamping forward into Sky’s arms. He was ice-cold.
“He’s hypothermic,” Alistair said, touching Arthur’s neck. “Pulse is weak.”
“We need an ambulance,” Skyw sobbed, rubbing Arthur’s hands.
“Too slow,” Alistair said. He tapped his warpiece. “Bring the medic unit to the front door. Now. We have a Code Blue.”
He scooped Arthur up as if the old man weighed nothing. “My convoy has a mobile ICU. We’ll stabilize him on the way.” They carried him up the stairs.
In the foyer, Petunia was crying loadly, guarded by a stone-faced security operative. Victor had been dragged inside, his face muddy and bleeding.
When Skyw saw them, something inside her snapped. She stopped. She looked at her father, unconscious in Alistair’s arm Then she looked at the family who had done this.
“Put him in the medic van,” Skye told Alistair. Her voice was terrifyingly calm.
“Skye.” Alistair warned.
“Put him in the van,” she repeated.