CHAPTER 2: THE Hunt IN THE SNOW
The blizzard had intensified, turning the city streets into a blinding white maze. Ethan pushed his sedan to its absolute limit, the tires slipping on the black ice as he tore toward the industrial district.
His mind was a storm of guilt and panic. He had spent years building his image as a savior, only to discover his empire was built on the frozen bones of a man who had tried to save his own child. And now, that child—Clara—was in the crosshairs of the people trying to bury the secret forever.
He slammed the brakes outside the diner. The neon sign was cracked, sputtering a dying hum.
The diner door was unlocked, swinging open in the howling wind. Inside, tables were overturned. A broken coffee pot lay shattered on the floor, dark liquid freezing into a grotesque stain on the tiles. The diner owner was nowhere to be seen.
"Clara!" Ethan shouted, his voice swallowed by the wind. "Clara!"
He ran into the alleyway behind the diner. The snow was fresh, but he could see frantic, overlapping footprints—small, frantic boot prints, pursued by heavy, deep treads.
He followed them past rusted dumpsters and crumbling brick walls. The alley led to the massive, abandoned industrial yard of Cole Meridian’s Zone 4. It was a graveyard of rusted pipes and giant concrete towers.
A scream pierced the night.
Ethan sprinted toward the sound. In a clearing beneath a massive, defunct steam pipe, he saw her. Clara was backed against a chain-link fence, her small face pale with terror.
Standing in front of her were two men in heavy tactical coats. One of them held her navy-blue backpack, ripping it open and dumping its contents into the snow—old drawings, a small toy, and a diary.
"Where is the drive, kid?" the taller man demanded, his voice flat. "Your father had a backup. We know he gave it to you. Where is it?"
"I don't have it!" she cried, shivering violently. "I gave it to the man! The man who is going to find my daddy!"
The second man pulled a sleek, silenced pistol from his coat. "Then you're of no use to us."
"Hey!" Ethan roared.
The men spun around. Ethan didn't stop. He tackled the armed man, sending both of them crashing into the frozen dirt. The gun skittered across the ice. Ethan threw a wild punch, landing it squarely on the man's jaw, but the other operative kicked him viciously in the ribs.
Ethan gasped, collapsing into the snow. The pain was blinding.
The tall operative walked over, picking up the gun and aiming it directly at Ethan’s forehead.
"Mr. Cole," the operative said, a grim smile playing on his lips. "You should have stayed at your gala. Marcus sends his regards."
"Wait!" Ethan gasped, clutching his ribs. "If you kill me, the drive automatically uploads. I set a dead-man's switch on my office server. It goes to the federal authorities in ten hours."
It was a bluff. Ethan hadn't set up any such thing. But it worked.
The operative hesitated, lowering the gun slightly. "You're lying."
"Try me," Ethan spat, rising slowly to his feet, putting himself between the gun and Clara. "Let the girl go. She doesn't know anything. I have the drive. It’s in a secure location. You want it? You negotiate with me."
The operative looked at his partner, then back at Ethan. He raised his radio. "We have a situation. Cole is here. He claims he has a dead-man's switch on the data."
A cold, familiar voice came through the radio receiver.
"Bring them both to the sub-level facility. It’s time Ethan sees exactly what he signed off on."
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It was Marcus.
Ethan’s blood ran cold. The sub-level facility was the very place Thomas Vance had been sealed alive.
