"Flashlights!" Mara screamed. "Turn on your tactical lights right now!"
"Regent, we can't see!" the lead guard panicked.
"I said turn them on!" Mara ordered.
Four bright beams of white LED light snapped on, filling the darkness. The beams danced erratically across the imported rugs and the heavy silk curtains. The guards were breathing heavily,
"Form up on the double doors," Mara commanded. "Do not shoot unless you see a target. Keep your fingers off the triggers until I give the word."
"Regent, the perimeter is breached," a guard stammered.
"I know," Mara said flatly.
A sharp, metallic clack echoed near the unlit fireplace.
Mara snapped her head toward the sound. One of the guard's flashlights swept over the stone mantle, illuminating Marco Vitale.
He was holding a sleek, suppressed pistol.
"You were supposed to be disarmed," Mara snapped.
"I am the second son of Don Vitale," Marco said calmly, racking the slide to chamber a round. "I am never unarmed."
