Chapter 2 - The Colonel Awakens.
Hundreds of miles away in a heavily fortified compound in rural Virginia, Thomas Vance was sitting in his dimly lit study polishing a collection of antique medals.
The retired Marine colonel was a man of iron discipline and terrifying focus, respected by generals and feared by the criminal underworld.
His private security contracting firm handled covert operations for the highest bidders, but his only true vulnerability in life was his beloved daughter, Clara.
Suddenly, a specialized encrypted computer monitor on his heavy oak desk flared to life with a flashing red warning screen.
Thomas set down his polishing cloth immediately, his sharp gray eyes narrowing as he read the two words blinking aggressively on the display.
Code Crimson was the exact emergency signal he had prayed for two agonizing years he would never actually have to see.
He reached for a secure red telephone on his desk, his massive, scarred hand remaining completely steady despite the furious storm brewing in his heart.
Get me tactical team Alpha in the briefing room right this second, Thomas commanded, his deep voice rumbling with lethal authority.
Within three minutes, six heavily armed men dressed in dark tactical gear stood at strict attention in the underground command center.
These were not ordinary security guards, but elite former special forces operatives who owed their lives and loyalties entirely to Thomas Vance.
Gentlemen, my daughter has triggered a distress protocol from the Sterling estate in Connecticut, Thomas announced, his tone cold enough to freeze blood.
I want complete satellite surveillance on that property immediately, and I want blueprints of their security grid projected on the screen.
A younger operative typed furiously at a keyboard, bringing up a glowing 3D rendering of Richard Sterling's six-million-dollar mansion.
The target location is equipped with military-grade laser grids, reinforced steel doors, and a private guard detail patrolling the perimeter, the operative reported professionally.
Thomas simply scoffed at the impressive defenses, knowing that his men had successfully infiltrated foreign dictators' palaces with far less effort.
We go in silent and fast, leaving absolutely no digital footprint and ensuring the private guards do not even realize they have been bypassed, Thomas instructed.
He walked over to a heavy weapons locker and pulled out a customized, suppressed tactical rifle, checking the chamber with practiced precision.
Richard Sterling thinks his Wall Street money makes him a god, but tonight he is going to learn what happens when you lay a hand on my blood.
The men loaded their gear into a pair of unmarked, heavily modified black SUVs that were designed to evade all radar detection.
Thomas climbed into the passenger seat of the lead vehicle, staring out into the dark night with a look of pure, unadulterated vengeance.
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He had warned Richard on his wedding day that he would personally dismantle his entire life if he ever made Clara shed a single tear.
The drive to Connecticut would take exactly three hours, which meant Richard Sterling's reign of terror was rapidly coming to a violent end.
