Chapter 4 - the shadow in the backyard
"Michael, take Claire and Noah into the master closet," Daniel instructed in a low, even tone. "Lock the solid interior door from the inside. Do not open it for anyone unless you hear my voice."
Claire didn't argue. She grabbed Michael's arm, her eyes locking onto Daniel's. "Be careful, Dan."
As Michael guided his family up the stairs toward the master suite, Daniel turned his attention to the large German Shepherd standing beside him. He reached down and clicked a short nylon leash onto Rex's tactical harness.
"Rex," Daniel murmured, his voice dropping into the specific tone he hadn't used in five years. "Watch."
The dog's posture changed instantly. The gentle family pet vanished, replaced by an eighty-seven-pound tactical weapon of pure discipline and intelligence.
A faint metallic scratch echoed from the rear sliding door lock. A thin steel tool was being worked into the latch frame from the outside patio.
Daniel stood behind the heavy linen curtain, holding his breath, waiting until the glass door slid open two inches, letting in the cool evening air.
The moment a boot stepped across the aluminum frame, Daniel released the leash. "Rex! Hold!"
Rex launched forward into the dim light of the patio like a black-and-tan streak! The dog hit the intruder in the midsection with crushing momentum, taking the man down onto the outdoor wicker furniture in a flurry of shattered glass and snapping wood.
The intruder gasped as Rex pinned his arms securely against the deck boards, growling inches from the man's throat without sinking his teeth in—a textbook display of non-lethal tactical restraint.
Daniel stepped onto the patio, using a swift disarming strike to kick a small tactical stun unit from the intruder's right hand. He flipped the man onto his stomach and secured his wrists with a heavy zip-tie from his jacket pocket.
Daniel pulled off the attacker's dark ski mask. It wasn't Thomas Vance. It was a younger man in his late twenties, his fair skin pale with shock as he stared up at the massive dog standing over him.
"Who sent you?" Daniel demanded, pulling a tactical radio from the man's vest.
The young man swallowed hard, refusing to speak.
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Suddenly, the radio in Daniel's hand crackled to life with static. A familiar, raspy voice came through the small speaker: "Unit two, report. Did you secure the child's room?"
Daniel pressed the push-to-talk button. "He's secured, Vance. And so is your perimeter."
