Vlad carefully hoisted the unconscious guard, her head lolling against his shoulder, and moved with a silent, heavy tread toward a massive ancient oak. He propped her against the trunk, hidden within the deep shadows of the Nashville night, ensuring she was positioned safely before he turned back toward the looming white mansion.
"Package is secure," Vlad whispered into his comms. "Moving to the secondary breach."
He scaled the stone balustrade of the rear terrace, slipping through a cracked second-story window. Inside, the luxury of the Oak Hill estate was on full display—vaulted ceilings, marble floors, and original oil paintings—but Vlad's eyes were only on the thermal signatures ahead.
The house wasn't just a home; it was a hive. Four guards in tactical black stood stationed in the grand foyer, their rifles held at low-ready. They moved with a choreographed discipline that suggested they weren't just private security—they were professionals.
The Infiltration
Vlad stayed in the shadows of the mezzanine, his hand finding the hilt of his blackened titanium dagger. He didn't breathe; he didn't blink. He waited for the rhythm.
The Distraction: From his perch in the trees outside, Vance tapped his iPhone. Suddenly, the high-end sound system in the foyer emitted a sharp, high-frequency burst of static.
The Strike: As the guards instinctively reached for their ears, Vlad dropped. He fell like a stone from the balcony, landing silently behind the first man. Before the guard could turn, Vlad's forearm was wrapped around his throat, his blade stayed sheathed—he preferred the sleeper hold for now to keep the "quiet" in the mission.
The Chaos: The other three snapped their weapons up, but the red dot of a laser suddenly danced across the lead guard's chest.
"Don't even think about it, boys," Vance's voice echoed coolly through the foyer's intercom system. "I've got a broadhead leveled at the boss's favorite vase, and my friend down there is much faster than he looks."
The guards froze, caught between the shadow in their midst and the unseen threat from the dark Tennessee woods.
The moment the guards hesitated, Vlad became a blur of lethal precision. He didn't wait for them to make a choice; he made it for them.
Releasing the man in the sleeper hold, Vlad used the falling body as a shield. As the second guard tried to track him, Vlad lunged low. He drove his shoulder into the man's solar plexus, lifting him off his feet, and in one fluid motion, swept the leg of the third guard. The air in the foyer was filled with the sound of grunts and the heavy thud of bodies hitting the marble floor.
The fourth guard managed to level his rifle, but Vlad was already inside his guard. He caught the barrel of the weapon, wrenching it upward as a muzzle flash lit the room, the bullet burying itself harmlessly in the vaulted ceiling.
Vlad snapped a palm strike into the guard's chin, snapping his head back, then spun the rifle around, using the stock to hammer into the man's ribs.
As the guard crumpled, Vlad transitioned seamlessly. He didn't draw his daggers to kill, but to dominate. He used the flat of his blade to strike a nerve cluster in the third guard's neck as the man tried to scramble up.
The final standing guard lunged with a combat knife. Vlad stepped into the strike, parrying the blade with his forearm gauntlet—a metallic clang echoing through the hall—before delivering a spinning back-kick that sent the man flying through a glass coffee table.
Within ten seconds, the foyer was a graveyard of unconscious bodies. Vlad stood in the center of the wreckage, his chest rising and falling in a steady, controlled rhythm. He hadn't broken a sweat. He reached back, sliding his primary dagger into its sheath with a crisp, satisfying click.
"Clear," Vlad said into his comms, his voice as cold as the marble beneath his boots.
"Nice footwork," Vance chirped from his perch in the oaks. "Remind me never to owe you money. You've got a clear path to the basement vault. I'm jamming the silent alarms now."
Vlad didn't waste time with a reply. He stepped over the pile of fallen security and headed for the heavy oak door leading to the mansion's lower levels.