“He’s got the local precinct,” I said. “They won’t listen to a court order. They’ll breach the house.”

“Let them try,” Ryker said.

He turned toward the hallway. His boots clicked against the hardwood floor.

I followed him. My heart was hammering against my ribs.

We reached the grand staircase. Marco was standing near the top, his hand resting on his holster.

“The kids are in the panic room,” Marco said. “They’re safe. But the police are cutting the lock on the outer gate.”

“How much time do we have?” Ryker asked.

“Three minutes. Maybe four before they reach the front doors,” Marco replied.

“Keep them out,” Ryker said. “Use the physical barricades. Do not fire unless they breach the inner perimeter.”

Marco nodded once and disappeared down the back hallway.

Ryker led me into his private study.

The room was pitch black except for the red and blue strobing lights slicing through the heavy velvet curtains.

He walked to the wall behind his desk and pressed his palm against a hidden panel.

A soft hum vibrated through the floorboards.