Chapter 45
Cole pressed the stolen earpiece into his ear, listening to the crisp, disciplined chatter of the enemy operatives.
"Perimeter team four, report," a voice commanded over the encrypted channel.
Cole didn't answer. He dragged the two bodies deep into the brush and moved silently toward the rear of the guest house. He needed to understand the exact nature of the threat. He needed a hostage.
He spotted an operative standing alone near the smoking ruins of the cellar trapdoor, monitoring a handheld digital scanner.
Cole moved with terrifying speed, crossing the open snow and tackling the man violently into the shadows of the porch. He pinned the operative to the frozen wood, driving the tip of his ceramic blade directly into the gap of the man's throat armor.
"Scream, and you drown in your own blood," Cole whispered. "Where is the Warden?"
The operative’s eyes bulged with terror. "You're dead. The cellar collapsed."
"I am a ghost," Cole corrected softly, applying microscopic pressure to the blade. "What is the Omega Vault? Why do you want the child?"
"I... I don't know the full details," the operative choked out, trembling violently. "I swear! The Warden said Ethan Vance was an architect for a black-ops bio-weapons program. He stole the master sequence and encoded it into his daughter’s DNA before he died. The Vault contains the pathogens. The child is the key."
Cole’s blood ran cold. Ethan Vance hadn't just stolen blackmail files; he had stolen a doomsday weapon. And Nora was a living, breathing decryption key.
"Where is the Warden?" Cole repeated, his voice devoid of mercy.
"He... he is at the extraction point," the operative gasped. "The northern ridge. They have a stealth VTOL waiting."
Before Cole could ask another question, the stolen radio in his ear erupted with frantic shouting.
"Target acquired in the creek bed! We have the women and the child! Engaging now!"
"No!" Cole roared, driving the hilt of his knife into the operative's temple, knocking him out instantly.
Cole abandoned stealth. He sprinted through the deep snow, crashing through the tree line with reckless, desperate speed, his assault rifle raised.
He heard the deafening roar of automatic gunfire erupting from the creek bed.
He reached the edge of the embankment, looking down into the darkness.
Donovan and Sarah were pinned behind the snowbank, returning fire fiercely against a squad of advancing operatives. But they were vastly outnumbered.
"Covering fire!" Cole bellowed, leaping down the embankment and unleashing a devastating hail of armor-piercing rounds into the enemy flank.
He dropped three operatives instantly, breaking their formation. But as he pushed forward, a blinding flash of light erupted in the center of the creek bed.
It wasn't an explosive. It was a high-frequency, non-lethal sonic grenade.
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The agonizing, high-pitched screech instantly paralyzed Cole, dropping him to his knees as blood poured from his ears.
Through his blurring vision, he saw a tall figure in a heavy gray overcoat—the Warden—stepping calmly through the snow, walking directly toward the cowering form of Ava and Nora.
