Chapter 2: The Aspen Code
Sophie, a child far more perceptive than anyone in that room realized, scrambled backward toward the antique rotary phone tucked into the alcove of the stone fireplace. It was a relic Mark kept for "aesthetics," a decorative piece he thought was disconnected.
He was wrong.
Sophie held her stuffed rabbit to her chest, her small hand shaking as she lifted the heavy receiver. She didn't dial a number; she simply waited. The line opened with a crisp, professional click.
"The code word... Aspen," Sophie whispered into the receiver.
The voice on the other end was robotic, calm, and utterly chilling. "Stay exactly where you are. Breach in T-minus sixty seconds."
Mark began to laugh, stepping toward the girl. "What are you doing, you little brat? That phone doesn't even work." He reached out to snatch it, but before his fingers could touch the receiver, a mechanical thunk echoed through the lodge.
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It was the sound of the massive, reinforced front door locks disengaging.
The wind howled, whipping through the room as the door swung wide open, revealing not a blizzard, but a wall of tactical lighting. Flashing blue and red lights painted the snow, and the room was suddenly filled with the heavy thud of boots.
