Chapter 2 - The Sound of Rotors
The silence on the Thorne estate was absolute. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.
Marcus coughed desperately, clutching his ribs, his face pale with shock and pain. Chloe rushed to his side, her eyes wide with terror and fury as she glared at me.
"You lunatic!" Chloe shrieked, her voice cracking. "You assaulted my fiancé! Guards! Call the police! Put this psychopath in handcuffs!"
Two private security guards in sleek black suits stepped out from the main estate entrance, reaching for their holsters.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Dr. Vance warned, stepping between the guards and me. "Unless you want to face a federal court-martial for brandishing weapons against a flag officer."
Before the guards could process his words, the deep, rhythmic thrumming of heavy helicopter blades echoed from the southern sky over the Potomac River. The wind picked up sharply, whipping through the manicured hedges and scattering expensive napkins across the lawn.
Two dark grey, unmarked MH-60 Black Hawk helicopters rose over the tree line, their searchlights cutting through the twilight. The crowd screamed in panic, backing away as the massive aircraft hovered low over the manicured lawn of the Thorne estate.
Down from the sky dropped thick fast-ropes. Within seconds, eight fully armed operators in tactical combat gear, wearing black helmets and bearing the emblem of the Joint Special Operations Command, slid down to the ground. They formed a defensive perimeter in seconds, their rifles held at low-ready.
A tall officer in a crisp Army dress uniform descended from the second aircraft via ladder and stepped onto the lawn. It was Colonel David Vance, Dr. Vance's son and my chief of staff.
Colonel Vance marched straight past the stunned guests, past Chloe, and past the groveling Marcus, stopping two paces in front of me. He snapped a perfect, rigid salute.
"Commander Zariah," Colonel Vance reported, his voice crisp and carrying over the roar of the idling rotors. "Emergency orders straight from the Joint Chiefs. Sir, the President requires your immediate presence at the Pentagon. The convoy is standing by at the gate."
I looked down at my wine-stained dress and my bare feet. "Give me thirty seconds, Colonel."
"Yes, Ma'am!"
I turned to look at Chloe. My little sister stood frozen, her jaw open, looking at the heavily armed soldiers, at the high-tech helicopters flattening her perfect party decorations, and finally at me.
May you like
"Zariah..." Chloe whispered, her voice trembling. "What... what is this?"
"This is the reality you were too selfish to ever ask about, Chloe," I said calmly. "You enjoyed the luxury my sacrifice bought you. But starting today, the funding stops."
