Chapter 6 - The Gathering Storm
The safehouse was an abandoned hunting lodge nestled in the dense pine forests of the Wind River Range.
Emily lay on a cot near a crackling stone hearth, covered in wool blankets. A trusted backcountry midwife—Vance’s sister, Sarah—gently monitored the fetal monitor strapped around Emily’s abdomen.
"Heartbeat is steady, 145," Sarah announced with a warm smile. "The baby is a fighter, Emily. Just like her mother. Just like her uncle."
Across the room, Daniel sat shirtless by the fire while Vance stitched a reopened laceration across his ribs. Daniel didn't flinch. His jaw was clenched, his eyes glued to the bank of military-grade monitors set up on the timber dining table.
"Did you get the files?" Daniel asked, wincing slightly as Vance pulled the suture thread tight.
Vance nodded, tapping the keyboard. "The snowmobile dashcam survived the impact. The camera was mounted on a gyroscopic stabilizer. It captured everything, Daniel. It got Victoria’s face in 4K resolution. It got the exact moment she pushed Emily’s wheelchair down the mountain. And the high-gain microphone picked up her exact words: *'A heroic effort, boy. Pity peasants never learn their place.'*"
Emily sat up, her eyes flashing with a cold intensity that mirrored her brother's.
"Tomorrow night is the Sterling Centennial Gala," Emily said, her voice calm, devoid of the tears she had shed in the hospital. "The governor will be there. The international press. Every billionaire in the shipping and energy sectors. Julian is scheduled to announce Victoria's appointment as Chairman Emeritus of the Board."
Daniel looked at his sister. A grim, predatory smile spread across his bruised face.
"She thinks she can bury us in the dark, Em," Daniel said, picking up his rifle and sliding a fresh magazine into the chamber with a sharp *clack*.
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"Then let's bring her into the light," Emily replied.
***
