Chapter 5 - The Midnight Breach
Graham lunged toward the cabin's dirty window, wiping away the frost.
In the clearing outside, dozens of red laser sights were dancing across the wooden logs of the cabin. The mechanical hum of hovering tactical drones grew deafening. They were surrounded. There was no escape.
"Here is the deal, Graham," Marcus said through the phone. "Bring the girl and the journal out. I'll let your children live. If you refuse, my men will turn that cabin into woodchips in exactly sixty seconds."
Graham looked back at Toby and June, who were waking up, terrified by the noise. He looked at Clara, who stood up bravely, ready to sacrifice herself.
"No," Graham said into the phone. "Nobody dies tonight except your operation."
Graham smashed the satellite phone under his boot. He turned to Clara. "Do you trust me?"
Clara nodded slowly.
Graham pulled open a trapdoor in the floorboards he had discovered earlier—an old root cellar that led to a drainage pipe running down the hill. "Take Toby and June. Crawl through the pipe. It exits by the frozen river. Run to the highway. I’ve already sent an encrypted distress signal to the federal authorities before the towers went down. They will be there in twenty minutes."
"What about you, Daddy?" Toby cried, grabbing his father's jacket.
Graham knelt down, kissing both of his children on their foreheads. "I have to go get your mother."
Before they could argue, Graham shoved them down into the cellar and slammed the trapdoor shut, heavy furniture dragged over it to hide the entrance.
Graham grabbed the tactical rifle he had stolen from the train. He took a deep breath, his eyes hardening into flint. He didn't wait for the sixty seconds to expire.
He kicked the front door open and began firing.
The clearing erupted into a chaotic firefight. Graham used the cabin's porch as cover, laying down suppressing fire that threw the mercenaries into confusion. Drones exploded in balls of fire as his bullets found their fuel cells.
But he was outnumbered. A bullet grazed his shoulder, tearing through his jacket. Another struck his thigh, sending him crashing to his knees.
The mercenaries closed in, pinning him to the ground.
Marcus Vance stepped out from behind the armored vehicles, wearing a pristine wool coat that contrasted sharply with the snowy, bloody environment. He looked down at Graham with an expression of profound disappointment.
"Where is the girl, Graham? Where are the children?" Marcus asked, signaling his men to search the cabin.
"Gone," Graham gasped, spitting blood onto the snow. "You're too late, Marcus. The world is going to know what you did."
Marcus knelt down, pulling a silver syringe from his pocket. "The world only knows what the media tells them, Graham. And tomorrow, the headlines will read that billionaire Graham McKenzie and his tragic children perished in a terrible train accident."
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Marcus slammed the syringe into Graham's neck.
As darkness flooded Graham's vision, the last thing he heard was Marcus shouting to his men, "He's alive. Take him to the Blackwood Facility. We'll use his biometrics to force his wife to comply."
