Chapter 20 - The Whispers in the Wind
Dawn was breaking over the coast of Point Reyes, two hundred miles north of the smoldering ruins of San Pedro Harbor.
The storm had finally cleared, leaving behind an endless sky of pale, crystalline blue. Down on the secluded, windswept beach beneath towering white chalk cliffs, a small single-engine seaplane bobbed gently on the calm surf, its engine idling with a soft, steady hum.
Gabriel Mercer stood on the wet sand, his tactical gear stripped away, dressed in simple civilian jeans and a heavy wool coat. His left shoulder was bound in fresh white gauze beneath his shirt.
In his hand, he held a burn-phone. On the other end of the line was Special Agent Vance.
*"The harbor operation is complete, Gabriel,"* Vance’s voice came through the encrypted channel. *"The federal task force seized the Astraea. Lord Sterling Vance is in federal custody facing treason, human trafficking, and corporate terrorism charges. The Ashford Syndicate is dismantled."*
"And the bodies?" Gabriel asked, his voice low.
A long pause hung over the line.
*"Divers recovered Arthur Bennett’s body an hour ago, tangled in the harbor nets. He didn't survive the impact."*
Gabriel looked out over the rolling Pacific breakers. A heavy, somber weight settled into his chest. Arthur had been weak, blind, and foolish—but in the final second of his life, he had chosen to die so his daughter could live.
"And Victoria?" Gabriel pressed.
*"We found her coat, Gabriel,"* Vance said, his voice dropping to a tense, uneasy whisper. *"And we found the bandages from her face washed up on the breakwater rocks. But the currents in the shipping channel were running ten knots out to sea. Her corpse... was never recovered. The medical examiner says it's impossible for anyone with her injuries to survive forty minutes in that water."*
"Nothing is impossible for her," Gabriel said coldly. "Keep the harbor perimeter locked down."
*"Where will you go?"* Vance asked. *"The probate courts have cleared you. Julianna’s secondary trust officially named you Nora’s sole, permanent legal guardian. You’re free, Gabriel. You have twenty million dollars in clean trust funds and no one hunting you."*
Gabriel looked down at the burn-phone. Without answering, he snapped the device in two, dropped the pieces into the wet sand, and ground them beneath the heel of his boot.
He turned toward the seaplane.
Nora was standing at the edge of the surf, holding a small wooden bucket, watching a tiny hermit crab crawl across the smooth stones. Her bright white dress caught the morning breeze, her dark curls dancing in the sunlight.
For the first time in two years, the haunted shadow in her eyes was gone. She looked like what she was meant to be: an innocent child at the edge of the world.
She looked up, saw Gabriel walking toward her, and smiled—a brilliant, radiant smile that cut through the years of blood and combat Gabriel carried on his soul.
She ran to him, throwing her small arms around his knee. Gabriel smiled, bending down to lift her up onto his shoulders.
"Ready to fly, little bird?" he asked gently.
"Ready, Gabriel," she giggled, holding onto his hair.
Gabriel walked toward the pontoon ladder of the seaplane, the pilot giving him a sharp nod from the cockpit. He set Nora safely into the passenger seat, strapping her harness secure.
Before climbing into the cabin, Gabriel paused.
A sudden, unnatural chill swept across the back of his neck. The ocean wind shifted, blowing from the deep redwood forest behind the beach.
Gabriel turned slowly, his hand instinctively dropping to the concealed weapon inside his coat.
He scanned the towering treeline two hundred yards away on the ridge above the beach.
The forest was completely still. No birds sang.
And there, standing high on the jagged cliff edge overlooking the seaplane, half-concealed behind the trunk of a massive, ancient cypress tree...
Stood a tall, slender silhouette.
She wore no bandages now. Her head was tilted at an unnatural, predatory angle. And tied around the branch of the tree directly beside her, fluttering violently in the cold Pacific wind, was a long, pristine ribbon of emerald green velvet.
Gabriel’s blood ran completely cold.
Inside the plane, Nora’s soft laughter suddenly stopped. She pressed her small hand against the cabin window, looking up toward the cliff, her tiny face turning pale as snow.
She pointed.
May you like
And as the seaplane’s engine roared to full throttle, cutting through the waves toward the sky, the figure on the cliff did not run.
She simply raised one pale, gloved hand... and waved.
