Chapter 26 - The War for Sovereign Blood
The black AW101 helicopter cut through the heavy Chicago rain like a jagged blade of obsidian. Inside the soundproofed cabin, the noise of the twin turbines was reduced to a low, rhythmic growl.
Across from me, Alexander sat in silence, studying three separate encrypted screens mounted on the bulkhead. One tracked the GPS signals of our four children—implanted beneath the skin of their shoulders, a medical precaution I had taken after the first kidnapping threat two years ago. The second screen tracked the Wisconsin state police dispatch chatter. The third was a live satellite feed focused on the quiet, tree-lined street of Lincoln Park.
"They're three minutes away from the perimeter," Alexander said, his voice entirely flat, devoid of panic. "Julian’s team is using two black SUVs with cloned Illinois state government plates. Four men in the lead vehicle, three in the trailing."
I leaned over the console, my knuckles white as I gripped the leather seat. "Where is the nanny? Where is Mrs. Gable?"
"She is in the fortified storm cellar beneath the kitchen with Toby and Chloe," Alexander replied, his fingers flying across a military-grade keyboard. "Your boy Leo... he isn't in the cellar, Evelyn."
My heart stopped. "What do you mean he isn't in the cellar? Where is my son?!"
Alexander tapped the screen, zooming in on the thermal imaging feed of the brownstone. Two small heat signatures were positioned on the second-floor landing.
"Maya is with him," Alexander said softly, a dark, strange pride threading through his voice. "The boy heard the outer gate sensor trip. Instead of running downstairs, he went up to get his sister. And he took something from the hallway cabinet."
The thermal image sharpened. Leo, five years old, was standing at the top of the stairs, holding the antique brass fire poker I had bought at an estate sale in London. He had Maya tucked firmly behind him in the corner of the master bedroom doorway.
Tears burned at the backs of my eyes, but I swallowed them down with raw iron. *That was my boy.* He had spent five years watching Julian yell at me, watching Julian throw tantrums and smash glasses against the wall. Leo had learned too early that in this world, nobody was coming to save you unless you stood your ground.
"He's like you," Alexander murmured, his eyes reflecting the blue light of the monitors. "Julian would have hid under the bed. Arthur Sr. would have hidden behind his lawyers. But Leo... he takes the high ground."
"He shouldn't have to," I snarled, turning to face Alexander with pure maternal rage. "He is five years old! He should be playing with wooden blocks and eating pancakes, not holding a brass rod against armed mercenaries because your family can't stop poisoning each other!"
Alexander closed the laptop with a snap. The cabin went dim, illuminated only by the red tactical lights.
"You are right," Alexander said, rising to his feet as the helicopter flared its rotors, preparing for a low-altitude hover above the Lincoln Park street. "Which is why nobody in that lead SUV will survive tonight to see tomorrow's sunrise."
May you like
He kicked open the side sliding door. A wall of freezing rain and deafening rotor wash roared into the cabin. Below us, through the gloom of the autumn night, the two black SUVs had just smashed through the wrought-iron gates of the brownstone.
***
