“We built this!” he yelled.

“Seventeen years, Adrian!”

Adrian turned his back to him.

The guards threw Caleb into the dark interior of the SUV.

The heavy metal door slammed shut with a sharp, final click.

The three vehicles began to back down the winding gravel driveway.

Their red taillights stained the wet pine needles a deep, blood-red color.

Then the sound of their engines faded into the dense woods.

The mercenaries stood in the center of the yard, their rifles lowered.

The lead mercenary looked at Adrian.

“We have no quarrel with you, Mr. Vance,” the mercenary said.

“Leave the estate,” Adrian said.

“If you are on my land in five minutes, you will not leave it at all.”

The mercenaries did not argue.

They walked back to their unmarked vehicles and drove away.

The silence returned to the Hudson Valley.

It was a heavy, cold silence that smelled of wet earth and exhaust.

I stepped out from the shadow of the stone portico.

The wind bit through my thin wool sweater, making me shiver.

Adrian turned his head and looked at me.