Chapter 6 - UNMASKING THE DEVILNathan pulled his rifle scope to his eye, targeting Victor Vance’s chest from the cover of the tree line sixty yards away.
Everything made sense now. Why Marcus Kane had been able to forge Nathan’s signature so flawlessly. Why the federal authorities had never questioned the suspicious medical shipments. Why Sarah’s police reports had been repeatedly ignored and shredded.
The hospital system itself was the hub of the cartel’s laundering operation, and Victor Vance was the mastermind. Nathan had just been the high-profile, oblivious poster boy whose flawless reputation shielded them from suspicion.
"You used my name," Nathan muttered under his breath, his finger tightening on the trigger. "You used my family."
Before Vance could pull the trigger on Marcus, a deafening shot echoed across the mountain runway.
BANG!
Nathan’s heavy hunting round struck the pistol out of Vance’s hand, shattering his fingers. Vance screamed in agony, clutching his bloody hand as he fell backward into the snow.
"SNIPER!" one of the mercenaries shouted, dropping into a defensive crouch and firing a spray of blind automatic rounds toward the tree line.
Nathan slid down the snowy bank, using the fallen timber as cover. He fired two more rapid shots, taking down two of the armed guards before they could pinpoint his position.
Marcus, seeing the chaos, scrambled through the snow toward the jet, trying to use the confusion to escape onto the plane.
"MARCUS!" Nathan shouted, his voice echoing over the roaring storm as he stepped out from the treeline into the blinding floodlights.
Marcus turned, his eyes wide with absolute horror as he saw Nathan advancing on him through the snow like a vengeful specter.
"Nathan!" Marcus stammered, pulling a hidden hunting knife from his boot. "You don't understand! Vance forced me into this! He told me he'd kill me if I didn't frame you!"
"You killed Sarah," Nathan said, his voice terrifyingly calm as he tossed his empty rifle aside and drew his heavy surgical scalpel from his belt. "You hit her, you abandoned your children in a blizzard, and you left a five-year-old girl to carry them through the snow."
"She's just a kid! She meant nothing!" Marcus screamed, lunging forward with the knife.
Nathan dodged the blade with fluid, surgical precision. He grabbed Marcus’s wrist, twisted it back until the bone snapped with a loud POP, and drove the scalpel deep into the shoulder joint, completely severing the motor nerves in Marcus's right arm.
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Marcus dropped the knife, screaming in agony as he collapsed into the crimson snow.
"That's for Sarah," Nathan cold-bloodedly whispered.
