Chapter 59
The exfiltration from Raven Rock was an agonizing, bloody nightmare. With Donovan wounded and bleeding heavily, stealth was impossible. The alarms wailed, echoing off the concrete walls as Cole carried the heavy Sergeant through the labyrinthine corridors.
"Leave me, Boss," Donovan grunted, her face pale and covered in sweat. "I'm slowing you down. They'll catch us both."
"Shut up, Rachel," Cole growled, his muscles screaming in protest, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "We leave no one behind. Not today."
They reached the base of the massive air shaft they had descended hours earlier.
"Sarah, I need a diversion!" Cole yelled into his comms, setting Donovan down gently against the wall. "The military police are swarming the lower levels. They have us boxed in at the shaft."
"I'm locked out of their internal security grid, Cole!" Sarah panicked. "I can't open the doors!"
Before Cole could process the grim reality of their situation, a new, deep voice crackled through the encrypted channel.
"You should have asked for a professional, Ghost," Vincent Castalano’s voice rumbled smoothly.
"Vincent?" Cole gasped in shock. "I thought you were in New York!"
"The auction was a success. The Directorate's forces are currently being dismantled by the FBI in a very public, very messy firefight," Vincent chuckled darkly. "But I couldn't let you have all the fun. Look up."
Cole looked up the massive, three-hundred-foot air shaft.
A heavy, military-grade extraction cable dropped silently through the darkness, landing with a soft thud at his feet.
"I procured a stealth helicopter," Vincent explained casually. "Silas is hovering directly above the grate. Hook on, Cole. We are going home."
Cole smiled, a profound, overwhelming wave of relief washing over him. He secured the heavy carabiners to his and Donovan’s harnesses.
"Pull us up!" Cole roared.
The heavy winch engaged, violently jerking them off the concrete floor. They ascended rapidly through the pitch-black shaft, the shouts of the military police echoing faintly below them as they breached the corridor.
They burst out of the air shaft, emerging into the crisp, freezing night air of Pennsylvania.
Silas hauled them into the cabin of the black helicopter, instantly applying a pressure bandage to Donovan’s leg.
"You look terrible, Cole," Vincent smirked, sitting in the co-pilot seat, turning back to look at the exhausted operator.
"You look like a lifesaver," Cole admitted, collapsing onto the metal floor, his chest heaving.
The helicopter banked sharply, tearing away from the mountain fortress and disappearing into the night sky. The God's Eye network was destroyed. The Architect was captured or dead. The war was finally, definitively over.
Hours later, they touched down at the private airstrip outside Chicago.
The sun was rising over Lake Michigan, painting the sky in brilliant, triumphant hues of gold and crimson.
Cole stepped off the helicopter, supporting a limping but smiling Donovan.
Waiting on the tarmac, wrapped in a thick coat, was Ava. She held Nora in her arms, tears of pure, unadulterated joy streaming down her face.
Cole didn't hesitate. He dropped his weapons, running across the tarmac, and pulled the two most important people in his world into a desperate, crushing embrace.
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"You came back," Ava sobbed into his neck.
"I promised," Cole murmured roughly, burying his face in her hair. "The ghosts are gone, Ava. It's just us now."
