Chapter 5 - Shadows Over the Lake
The rain had started again, drumming a relentless, heavy tattoo against the massive glass panes of the conservatory as Roman’s helicopter lifted off the north pad, kicking up a blinding cloud of mist and wet gravel.
Inside the cabin, the red emergency lighting cast a bloody glow over Roman’s features. He sat strapped into the leather jump seat, his automatic rifle resting across his thighs, checking the magazine with mechanical precision.
“Pilot says we’ll touch down at the downtown financial tower helipad in eight minutes,” Thomas shouted over the roar of the twin turbines, leaning forward from the cockpit jump seat. “Victor Vance and Margaret Sloan are holding an emergency shareholder quorum on the 48th floor. They’re attempting a hostile liquidation of Hale Enterprises using forged signatures from Claire’s estate.”
“They won't make it to the signature line,” Roman replied, his voice flat and lethal.
“Boss... what about the house?” Thomas hesitated. “I left a security detail, but if Margaret had a contingency plan—”
“My house is secure,” Roman snapped, though a cold seed of unease began to twist in his gut. He trusted Thomas with his life, but Margaret Sloan had been whispering in the ears of the Hale family for thirty years. She knew every secret entrance, every blind spot in the perimeter cameras, every escape tunnel built into the foundation of the 19th-century mansion.
“Call the detail at the house,” Roman ordered suddenly, a dark instinct flaring in his chest. “Verify that the girls are safe.”
Thomas nodded, pulling his satellite phone from his tactical vest. He punched in the secure extension for the estate’s ground security post.
One ring.
Two rings.
Three rings.
Static hissed through the speaker.
“Nobody’s picking up, boss,” Thomas said, his brow furrowing as he dialed a second number—the direct line to the kitchen quarters.
Still nothing. Just an empty, hollow hum.
“Turn the bird around,” Roman ordered, standing up inside the swaying cabin and grabbing the overhead hand strap.
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“Roman, we’re five minutes out from stopping the entire hostile takeover!” Thomas protested. “If we go back now, Vance gets away with the accounts!”
“Let him have the accounts,” Roman roared, his face twisting into a terrifying mask of fury as he racked the slide of his rifle. “If anything happens to my daughter—or to Hannah and that little girl—I won't just ruin Victor Vance. I’ll burn down the entire city block he stands on. Turn. The. Bird. Around.”
