Chapter 5 - Blackwood Ridge
Blackwood Ridge rose out of the frozen pine forests like a jagged tooth against the dark morning sky.
The medical bunker was a fortress built during the Cold War—buried deep beneath thirty feet of solid granite and reinforced concrete, accessible only by a single winding mountain road guarded by two tactical checkpoints and a heavy perimeter fence topped with razor wire and motion sensors.
I parked the interceptor two miles down the ridge, killing the lights and engine.
I checked my gear in the dim red light of the cabin: an silenced semi-automatic sniper rifle, two customized submachine guns, four thermal grenades, three blocks of C4 explosive with detonators, and my trusty .45.
I stepped out into the knee-deep snow. The temperature was ten below zero, the wind howling through the pine trees like a dying beast. Perfect cover.
I moved through the tree line like a ghost. For three miles, I stalked the perimeter, mapping the guard rotations, camera blind spots, and thermal sensors. Apex Global had spent millions securing this facility, but they had prepared for a military assault—a squad of soldiers moving in formation. They hadn't prepared for an apex predator moving alone through the blizzard.
At 5:45 AM, I reached the eastern perimeter fence.
Using a high-frequency frequency jammer I had taken from Marcus's stash, I blinded the local motion sensors for forty seconds. I clipped through the heavy chain-link wire with hardened steel cutters and slipped inside the perimeter, blending into the shadows of the concrete communications tower.
Two guards in heavy winter gear walked past on patrol, their rifles slung low, white steam puffing from their breath.
I dropped from the tower superstructure behind them.
CRACK. CRACK.
Two quick, silent neck snaps. I dragged their bodies into the snowbank behind the generator shed, taking their access keycards and radio headsets.
I put on one of the radio earpieces. The channel was active with cold, professional chatter.
"Command to Team Three. Status check on Sector Two."
"Sector Two clear," I replied, mimicking the dead guard's low rasp into the throat mic. "Blizzard is heavy. Visibility under ten feet."
"Copy that. Dr. Vance is entering Stage Four extraction in the lower lab. All non-essential personnel clear the lower levels."
Stage Four.
They were beginning the final neuro-extraction. If Marcus's intel was correct, Stage Four meant flooding Julian's brain with high-voltage synthetic stimulants to force memory recall before the inevitable cardiac arrest.
I had less than twenty minutes.
I walked straight to the heavy blast door at the rear of the bunker. I swiped the stolen keycard through the scanner. The heavy steel wheels turned, hydraulic pumps hissed, and the three-ton door slid open into a brightly lit, sterile concrete corridor.
I stepped inside, pulling my suppressed assault rifle to my shoulder.
The hallway was long, illuminated by cold fluorescent tubes. A lone guard was standing near the elevator bank, holding a clipboard. He looked up, his eyes widening as he saw a man in snow-covered black tactical gear holding a rifle pointed at his chest.
"Hey! What are you—"
THUD.
A single round ended his question. He slumped against the wall, sliding down into a puddle of his own blood.
I took the elevator key, hit the button for Sub-Level 3, and stepped inside.
As the elevator descended deep into the mountain, I reached into my chest pocket and touched the silver locket. Elena's smile flashed in my mind.
"I'm coming, Julian," I muttered into the cold steel box. "Hang on."
May you like
The elevator dinged. The doors slid open to reveal a massive subterranean laboratory filled with computer servers, medical monitors, and eight heavily armed Apex soldiers standing guard around a glass-walled central operating room.
In the center of that glass room, strapped to a titanium operating table, was my brother.
