Chapter 16 - Midnight in the Canyon
The board was larger than Lena had ever imagined.
"Thorne," Julian growled, keeping his weapon locked between Carter and the Deputy Director. "You’re running an unauthorized black op on domestic soil. Elias Vance will have you hung for treason before sunrise."
Thorne smiled thinly. "Elias Vance is currently on an aircraft that has lost cabin pressurization over the Rockies. In about twenty minutes, his Gulfstream will make an unfortunate emergency descent into a ridge outside Aspen. The kingmaker is dead, Julian. And his empire belongs to those who actually hold constitutional authority."
Lena felt a cold void open beneath her feet, but her face remained stone. "My father survived three administrations of backstabbing traitors, Thorne. He won't die on a mountain because of a rigged valve."
"Perhaps," Thorne said smoothly. "But you won't live long enough to confirm it. Carter, kill the boy. The girl comes with us. The foreign accounts require her biometric key."
Carter grinned, lifting the shotgun to blow Julian apart—
*CRACK.*
The reinforced glass of the kitchen skylight exploded inward.
A flash-blind grenade detonate directly in front of Thorne’s tactical team, followed by the deafening, surgical thunder of three synchronized sniper rounds. Thorne’s two lead contractors dropped before they touched the floor.
Julian lunged forward, tackling Carter to the ground as the shotgun fired harmlessly into the ceiling tiles. The weapon clattered across the slick tiles.
Lena didn't run. She grabbed a heavy steel sauté pan from the preparation rack, stepped over the struggling men, and with all the strength in her shoulders, brought it down directly against Carter Sterling’s jaw.
The bone cracked with a sickening, hollow pop.
Carter groaned, his eyes rolling back as he slumped onto the wet tiles, unconscious, blood pooling from his shattered cheek.
Julian rolled to his feet, panting, blood streaming from a cut on his brow. Above them, through the shattered skylight, three operatives in unmarked charcoal gray combat gear rappelled into the kitchen with mechanical precision.
Their commander stepped forward, lowering his night-vision goggles.
May you like
It was Elias Vance’s personal chief of security, Viktor Cole.
"Ma'am," Viktor said, his voice flat and steady. "Your father sends his regards. He asked me to inform you that his flight landed safely in Denver ten minutes ago."
