Chapter 7
The night sky over Monaco was perfectly clear,
filled with glittering,
brilliant stars,
while the soft,
cool ocean breeze masked the subtle,
deadly sounds of the approaching assassin.
The Phantom scaled the sheer,
glass exterior of the luxurious hotel,
using high-tech,
magnetic climbing gear to bypass the heavily guarded lobbies,
moving with the silent,
fluid grace of a predatory spider.
He reached the balcony of the Vance penthouse,
slipping his silenced,
custom-built pistol from its holster,
and gently placed a specialized glass-cutting tool against the reinforced,
bulletproof window.
He expected to find his targets sleeping,
unaware of the lethal danger lurking just inches away from their beds,
but as the thick glass popped loose with a soft hiss,
he realized the massive living room was entirely empty.
Suddenly,
the heavy,
velvet curtains pulled back automatically,
and the room was flooded with blinding,
high-intensity tactical strobe lights,
disorienting the assassin,
and completely destroying his night vision.
Before he could raise his weapon,
Marcus stepped out from the shadows,
his massive frame moving with shocking,
explosive speed,
and delivered a crushing,
devastating blow to the assassin's jaw,
sending him crashing backwards onto the marble floor.
The Phantom tried to recover,
reaching desperately for a hidden combat knife strapped to his boot,
but two more elite security operatives materialized from the darkness,
pinning his arms,
and stripping him of every single weapon in a matter of seconds.
Sofia walked slowly out of the adjoining master bedroom,
the bright lights reflecting in her calm,
unblinking eyes,
her hands resting comfortably in the pockets of her elegant,
silk trousers.
She looked down at the lethal,
highly feared cartel assassin,
who was now bleeding,
helpless,
and completely neutralized on her expensive rug,
and she let out a soft,
almost disappointed sigh.
She explained to the struggling,
furious man that his encrypted communication channels had been compromised hours ago,
that they had tracked his private flight from Miami,
and that they knew exactly who had sent him.
Elena stepped up right beside her daughter,
holding a secure,
satellite telephone,
the line already connected to the furious,
desperate cartel boss waiting in his swamp compound thousands of miles away.
Sofia took the phone,
placing it on speaker,
and allowed El Lobo to hear the pathetic,
ragged breathing of his greatest,
most expensive operative,
proving that the Vance family was absolutely untouchable.
She spoke directly into the microphone,
her voice perfectly level,
cold,
and dripping with an authority that terrified the billionaire crime lord on the other end of the line.
She told El Lobo that his money was gone,
his best killer was captured,
and that in exactly five minutes,
a heavily armed tactical team from the FBI's Hostage Rescue Unit would breach the walls of his Miami compound.
El Lobo began to scream,
shouting terrible,
violent curses into the phone,
but Sofia simply ended the call with a sharp click,
cutting off his pathetic rage,
and leaving him to face his inevitable destruction alone.
Marcus hoisted the restrained assassin to his feet,
ready to hand him over to Interpol,
while Sofia and Elena walked back onto the beautiful,
breezy balcony,
looking out at the peaceful ocean.
The nightmare was finally over,
the monsters had been completely eradicated,
and the two women stood victorious,
having defended their family,
May you like
their wealth,
and their unbreakable dignity against the darkest forces in the world.
