Chapter 4 - THE BLACK HELICOPTERS
Suddenly, the crystal chandeliers above the ballroom began to rattle violently, their delicate glass pendants clinking in unison.
A deep, deafening roar shook the high ceilings of the Plaza Hotel, drowning out the string quartet and the chatter of two hundred guests.
Panicked gasps filled the room as bright, military-grade searchlights cut through the floor-to-ceiling windows from the night sky outside.
Three matte-black, unmarked twin-engine helicopters hovered directly over the hotel's private rooftop terrace, blinding the balcony with intense illumination.
Julian dropped his champagne glass, the crystal shattering onto the marble floor as he shielded his eyes from the blinding spotlights.
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"What on earth is happening?" Julian stammered, stepping back toward the grand double staircase in sudden confusion.
Out on the balcony, Willow stood firm in her emerald gown, her dark wavy hair blowing wildly in the heavy rotor wash as two heavy black ropes dropped from the sky.
