Chapter 20 - The Sky Falls at Midnight
The storm was raging with apocalyptic fury as they emerged onto the timber lodge’s exterior terrace. A massive, unmarked Sikorsky S-92 helicopter sat on the snow-covered lawn, its giant rotor blades churning the blizzard into a vortex of white madness.
Two armed operatives flanked Harrison, their submachine guns pressed against his ribs. Maya clung to Harrison’s neck, her face buried against his chest, terrified of the deafening roar of the helicopter engines.
Evelyn walked ahead, her long coat billowing behind her like the wings of a scavenger bird.
As they reached the edge of the landing zone, the lead mercenary turned to Evelyn and shouted over the rotor noise: "Pilot reports incoming radar contact! Two unidentified aircraft entering Montana airspace, fast-moving, no transponders!"
Evelyn whipped around, her eyes flashing with sudden paranoia. "Harrison! What did you do?!"
"I didn't call anyone," Harrison yelled back truthfully.
Suddenly, a blinding flash illuminated the southern ridge of the valley.
*BOOM!*
A shoulder-fired surface-to-air missile tore through the blizzard, slamming directly into the tail boom of the idling Sikorsky helicopter.
The explosion blew Harrison and the two mercenaries off their feet. The shockwave threw Harrison hard into a deep snowdrift, his body curling instinctively around Maya to shield her from the flying shrapnel and burning aviation fuel.
The helicopter spun out of control in a ball of orange fire, collapsing into the tree line with a thunderous crunch of tearing metal.
Gunfire erupted from the pines. High-caliber sniper rounds cracked through the storm, tearing through Evelyn’s mercenary escort with terrifying efficiency. One operative dropped instantly, a clean hole punched through his helmet. Another fell screaming, clutching his shattered shoulder.
Evelyn scrambled behind the stone retaining wall of the terrace, drawing a chrome-plated automatic pistol from her coat, her eyes wild with fury.
Through the blizzard, three armored snow-tracks painted in matte black roared onto the perimeter lawn. Men in unmarked white winter gear advanced through the trees with military precision, suppressing Evelyn’s remaining men.
Harrison struggled to his knees in the burning snow, holding Maya tight. He looked toward the advancing force, expecting the FBI or state police.
Then, the back hatch of the lead snow-track dropped open.
Stepping out onto the snow was a tall man clad in a dark cashmere coat, smoking a cigar, entirely unfazed by the blizzard or the whistling bullets.
Harrison’s breath caught in his throat. His blood ran ice-cold.
It was Arthur Blackwood.
The billionaire investor who was supposed to be locked inside the highest-security federal prison in Manhattan was standing thirty feet away, a wicked, triumphant grin plastered across his scarred face.
"Did you really think the Department of Justice could hold me, Harrison?!" Blackwood roared over the din of battle, raising a gold-plated revolver.
Behind Blackwood, two operatives dragged a woman in chains out of the vehicle.
She wore an orange federal inmate jumpsuit, her face covered in bruises, her blond hair tangled with dried blood.
She looked up through the smoke.
She had Evelyn’s eyes. Evelyn’s face. Evelyn’s exact features.
Harrison looked from the woman in the snow to the woman hiding behind the retaining wall.
There were *three* of them.
Before Harrison could move, Maya let out an ear-piercing scream, her small hands clutching her chest as a high-pitched electronic beacon began chiming rapidly from beneath the skin of her left wrist.
May you like
Across the flaming wreckage, Blackwood’s voice cut through the storm like a funeral bell:
"Thank you for bringing her out into the open, Vance. The bidding starts now."
