Chapter 3 - The Counterstrike
BOOM!
The sledgehammer smashed through the inner pane of the front door, showering the foyer in thousands of razor-sharp glass fragments.
A large, gloved hand reached through the jagged opening, reaching down to locate the manual interior lock lever.
Nathan didn't hesitate. He raised the pistol and fired two sharp shots directly over the man’s head into the heavy wooden frame above the door.
BANG! BANG!
The explosive deafening cracks echoed violently within the enclosed foyer. Wood splinters erupted from the doorframe. The man screamed, pulling his hand back through the broken glass, clutching his bloodied arm as he tumbled backward down the icy porch steps.
"Back off!" Nathan roared, stepping around the mahogany table, keeping the weapon trained on the threshold.
Marcus retreated to the edge of the porch, his eyes wild with a mixture of rage and burgeoning panic. The phone call from Sarah had completely shattered his controlled, methodical plan. He had assumed Sarah was trapped and helpless, but her survival meant his entire legal defense was collapsing in real time.
"You think firing a gun makes you a hero, Pierce?!" Marcus screamed over the howling wind, standing behind his heavy truck for cover. "Your sister is sitting in a locked basement on the north ridge! The temperature in that unheated mill is five below zero! In forty minutes, she will be dead of severe hypothermia anyway!"
"She won't be alone, Marcus," Nathan called out, his voice razor-sharp. "Because I know every square inch of this mountain, and you just broadcast your entire position over a recorded security network!"
Nathan didn't waste another second. He backed slowly into the hallway, maintaining sight of the front entry, and hit the wall console button to drop the emergency steel security shutters over all first-floor windows and doors.
With a heavy, mechanical grind, thick, armor-plated steel shutters descended over the front entry, sealing the shattered door behind an impenetrable barrier.
Outside, Marcus and his remaining henchman slammed their tools against the steel plate, but it was like hitting an armored bank vault.
Nathan ran down the back corridor into the master bathroom.
Inside, Rosa was holding Lily, while the two baby boys slept under the pile of heated blankets in the large garden tub.
When Lily saw Nathan, her tear-filled eyes widened in relief. "Uncle Nathan... I heard Mommy's voice! Is Mommy coming?"
Nathan knelt down, placing his hands on Lily’s shoulders. The sight of her safe, dry, and warm gave him a surge of adrenaline stronger than any drug he had ever administered in an operating room.
"Your mommy is alive, Lily," Nathan said gently, wiping a dried tear from her cheek. "And I am going to go get her."
"Doctor, no!" Rosa gasped. "You can't go out into that storm! Marcus is waiting outside!"
"Marcus is locked outside my front gate, and he thinks I’m trapped inside," Nathan said, his mind moving with cold, calculated precision. "He knows Sarah has the evidence to put him away for life. He’s going to abandon this house and race to the north ridge logging mill to finish what he started and destroy the server."
Nathan reached into the medical supply closet, pulling out a heavy tactical thermal coat, a headlamp, a portable trauma kit, and two emergency epinephrine injectors.
"Rosa, the steel shutters are locked from the inside," Nathan instructed rapidly, strapping the trauma kit to his waist. "Nobody can get in here. Keep the children warm. I am taking the underground utility tunnel out through the lower generator shed."
He walked over to Lily, kissing her soft forehead. "Hold your brothers' hands, Lily. I’ll be back with your mother before the sun comes up."
"Promise?" she whispered, her tiny green eyes searching his.
"I promise," Nathan said softly. "Uncle Nathan doesn't break his word anymore."
Nathan hurried to the basement, unlocking a heavy iron door behind the boiler room that led into a narrow, concrete utility tunnel built beneath the mountain bedrock to house the property’s water and power lines.
He ran down the dark, freezing tunnel, his heavy boots echoing off the concrete, until he reached the lower exit hatch located three hundred yards down the mountain, well past the main gates and out of sight of Marcus’s men.
He pushed the heavy hatch open, stepping out into the waist-deep snow behind the lower equipment shed.
The storm was at its absolute peak. Visibility was less than five feet, and the freezing wind felt like knives against his exposed skin. Nathan pulled the heavy snow goggles over his eyes, kicked off the canvas tarp covering the heavy, high-powered mountain snowmobile, and inserted the key.
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The powerful engine roared to life with a deep, guttural growl, sending a cloud of dark exhaust into the white night.
Nathan threw his leg over the seat, gripped the heated handlebars, and slammed the throttle forward. The snowmobile surged up the steep, snow-covered forest trail, shooting up the mountain toward the north ridge like a dark arrow through the blizzard.
