He had encoded my own military conditioning triggers into the core operating system of this house.

The very phrases the Army had used to program my obedience were the keys to my father’s deepest secrets.

“Echo-Seven-Juliet,” I whispered into the intercom.

The house seemed to hold its breath for a split second.

Then, the heavy oak double doors at the front entrance slammed shut with a concussive boom.

The automated steel security bolts slid into place with a dry, heavy metallic crunch.

“What the hell was that?” Voss demanded.

I heard the sound of a rifle bolt chambering a round.

“She’s locked us in,” Caroline said, her voice remaining terribly calm. “Natalie, this is childish.”

I stepped out of the shadow of the hallway and stood in the doorway of the parlor.

My rifle was raised, the stock pressed firmly into my shoulder, the sight aligned with the center of Voss’s chest.

Two tactical guards instantly swung their weapons toward me, their weapon-mounted lights blinding me for a fraction of a second.

“Lower your weapons,” I said.