Chapter 10: The Breach
It happened at 3:14 AM. The sound was almost imperceptible—a soft click of the back door's tumbler. Elena was already awake, sitting in the dark corner of her kitchen, the Glock resting on her thigh.
Two men entered, moving with the terrifying silence of highly trained professionals. They weren't local thugs; they wore tactical gear, night-vision goggles, and carried suppressed submachine guns. Elena didn't hesitate. She fired twice, dropping the first man instantly, the deafening roar of her weapon shattering the Mendocino quiet.
The second man returned fire, splintering the wooden cabinets above her head. She rolled behind the island, grabbing a heavy cast-iron skillet and hurling it at the window. As the glass shattered, she vaulted through the frame, landing hard in the wet grass. She didn't look back as she sprinted into the treeline, Barnaby at her heels. The blank future she had wanted was gone, painted over in violence.
