Ral woke at 2:34 AM to silence that felt wrong. Not the comfortable quiet of sleeping household, but the weighted stillness that preceded violence. Years of intelligence training screamed warnings before his conscious mind fully processed what had triggered alarm.
The security system was offline.
He reached for his phone on the nightstand—dead. Louis's phone beside it—also dead. Not coincidence. Not malfunction. Deliberate jamming of electronic systems, the kind of sophisticated equipment that suggested professional operators rather than common criminals.
"Louis," he whispered, shaking her awake. "We have problem."
She woke instantly, mother's instinct and journalist's danger sense both firing. "What—"
"Security is down. Phones are jammed. Someone is coming."
They moved silently towa
