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Lucienda woke quickly from sleep. The sounds of something unexpected causing the woman to leap up abruptly from behind her father's desk.

The woman could now hear the sounds of multiple footsteps on the hardwood floors of the manor house's entry. These creaking noises perpetrated by unknown visitors, they were signs of a number of intruders. By her account of the relation to the creaking of the boards, there was at least three.

An old trick she learned from her grandfather. The man frequently telling her that if she listened to the spacing of the steps and to the heaviness of the weight upon the floors; she can tell not only the number of people walking across the floor, but also the size of the individual as well.

The woman instinctively reached for the landline telephone. The lines were dead. The intruders no doubt severing the lines to keep the girl from communicating with the outside Lucienda thought in silence.

The twenty-five year old woman, she was now feeling a real sense of danger. Quickly locking the door to her father's office Lucienda returned to the desk on a hastened search for her father's keys.

On her hours of grieving, the woman alone, she had not thought of these possibilities. Faith in all good things leaving her in peace, being a regular truth of the woman's being.

Desperation threatened to cloud over her rational thoughts. Lucienda looked to her father's picture and to the one and only picture of her family for signs of comfort. The thoughts of her father's old panic room now on her mind.

Pressing a button beneath her father's desk, Lucienda waited while a wall concealing the panic room slid slowly open. The woman acted fast unlocking the door to the panic room with her father's keys, and slipping inside to safety.

The footsteps were now telling of the intruders current position in her manor home. They had reached the stairs leading up to the second floor. Where lie her father's office, den, bedroom, and libraries; of which the man had four.

The panic door sealed closed and automatically locked behind her. The concealing wall slid back to closed position as she cleared the threshold of the panic room's entry.

The lights of the manor house went dark. This nearly brought the woman to a greater concern. The back-up generator secreted somewhere on the property. It kept the air and the lighting within the panic room in powered operation.

Four screens of monitoring were in active operation. Multi-spectrum cameras watching the rooms of the manor house from different view points of filming.

Lucienda was now getting hungry. It had been two days since she last fed. Her father's panic room thankfully had been supplied with food and with drink, and with a bathroom and a place to sleep. Although sleeping was not really the best of options during an emergency.

Lucienda's father prided himself on the security provided by his panic room, so much that he actually shared his designs with a manufacturer and became the world's first panic room designer that now serves the public trust.

By systems activation, the police would have already been called to the estate. Now all she had to do was wait.

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