He stood frozen under the yellow porch light, his eyes wide, his hand still holding his phone to his ear.

“Logan?” Walter called out into the dark. “Logan, was that you?”

There was no answer from the woods, only the whistling of the wind through the frozen branches.

Before anyone could make a move toward the trees, the glare of high beams cut through the falling snow at the end of the driveway.

Three dark SUVs tore through the entrance, their tires throwing up wet slush as they roared toward the house.

They skidded to a halt in a semi-circle, effectively blocking Walter’s sedan and Captain Vance’s military vehicle.

The doors flew open immediately.

Men in tactical vests with “MARSHAL” printed in bold yellow letters across their chests stepped out, their weapons raised.

“Federal agents!” a voice boomed through a megaphone. “Keep your hands where we can see them!”

From the passenger side of the lead SUV, a man in a long wool coat stepped into the snow.

It was Daniel Reyes.

His federal badge hung from a chain around his neck, glinting under the headlights.