Chapter 45 - The Siege at the North Pier
The heavy hovercraft came screaming across the lake ice, their massive lift fans throwing up clouds of blinding snow. They cut their throttles fifty yards from the diner pier, the rubber skirts settling onto the ice with a thunderous hiss of escaping air.
A dozen armed men stepped onto the frozen lake, their automatic rifles leveled at the pier.
Behind them, a third vehicle—a heavy tracked ice-crawler—ground to a halt. From its heated cabin stepped Eleanor Vance, flanked by two foreign private security commanders. She wasn't in handcuffs; she had made bail in Duluth, funded by the limitless offshore accounts of the Consortium.
"Benjamin!" Eleanor’s voice was amplified by a bullhorn, slicing through the freezing wind. "Surrender the cellar access! This town does not belong to you! It was paid for with Vanguard funds, and we have legal repossession orders signed by an international tribunal!"
Grace stepped to the edge of the pier, standing right beside Sheriff Thomas. She took the bullhorn from his cruiser's hood.
"Eleanor!" Grace shouted back, her voice ringing out across the frozen ice with clear, unshakable authority. "Our grandfather spent forty years washing grease off his hands while you were living off stolen interest in Zurich! You want this property? Come across the ice and take it from the people who actually built it!"
A roar went up from the men of Port Haven. Shotguns were racked. Flares were ignited, casting a brilliant crimson glare across the snow.
Eleanor sneered, lowering the bullhorn, and raised her hand to signal her mercenaries.
"Wait!" I shouted, stepping onto the pier beside Grace, dragging Julian Klausner forward into the crimson flare light. "Eleanor! Look who's holding your operational clearance!"
Eleanor’s eyes widened in horror as she saw the Baron kneeling on the icy planks, bound with tow ropes, his coat ripped and bloodied.
"The Baron has failed," Eleanor whispered, her radio microphone still hot. "Execute the perimeter breach. Blow the foundation."
The mercenaries raised their rifles.
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Before a single shot could be fired, the ice directly beneath the lead hovercraft groaned with the sound of a shattering continent.
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