SHE THOUGHT NO ONE SAW HER PUSH HER PREGNANT DAUGHTER-IN-LAW OFF THE CLIFF—UNTIL THE COLD DEAD HAND ON HER SHOULDER SPOKE!

The silence in the ruined room was suffocating, broken only by the howling blizzard rushing through the shattered French doors and the faint, frightened whimpering of Daniella behind the fireplace.

Daniel stood motionless, his fingers hovering over the trigger. He knew Marcus Cole. Cole was a former Black Ops operator who had gone rogue twenty years ago, a sociopath who felt neither fear nor remorse. If Daniel lowered his weapon, Cole would kill them all without hesitation.

"You're out of your depth, Cole," Daniel said, his voice dropping into a low, predatory growl designed to draw the man's attention away from the hearth. "You think Victoria is going to wire your payment from Cell Block C? Her assets were frozen at four o'clock today. You're working for a ghost."

"Victoria anticipated the freeze," Cole sneered, his finger tightening on the trigger as he took a half-step closer. "The bearer bonds in Zurich don't require federal clearance. They require a biometric signature. Specifically, the DNA sample of Victoria’s sole living granddaughter. Once I have the baby, Victoria’s Swiss bankers release fifty million to an offshore account in the Caymans. Drop the rifle, Vance! Last warning!"

Behind the brick mantle, Emily felt something inside her snap.

The fear that had paralyzed her since the day she was pushed off the mountain evaporated, replaced by an incandescent, primal rage that burned hotter than a thousand suns. She looked down at her daughter, wrapped securely in her sling, then her eyes fell upon the heavy iron fire poker resting against the stone grate.

She didn't make a sound. She didn't cry.

As Cole kept his weapon trained on Daniel, waiting for the rifle to hit the floor, Emily moved with the silent, terrifying grace of a mother whose child was threatened. She stepped from the shadows behind Cole's blind spot, raising the heavy, solid-iron poker with both hands.

"I said DROP IT—" Cole began to shout.

With a scream of absolute fury, Emily brought the iron poker down with all the strength in her body directly across the back of Cole's knee.

The sickening crack of shattered bone echoed through the room.

Cole screamed in agony, his leg buckling beneath him as he crashed to the hardwood floor, his pistol discharging wildly into the ceiling. Daniel was on him in a fraction of a second. With the brutal, lethal efficiency of a seasoned combatant, Daniel’s boot crushed down on Cole’s wrist, forcing the gun from his grip, while his knee slammed directly into Cole’s sternum, pinning the massive assassin to the floorboards.

Emily stood over him, her chest heaving, the bloodied iron poker raised in her shaking hands, her eyes burning with pure, unadulterated fire.