“The perimeter is clear,” Ward said. “But we have a problem.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“There’s a helicopter inbound from the south,” Ward said. “It’s not ours.”

I looked up at the dark sky, listening.

Through the sound of the wind and the rain, I heard it.

A low, rhythmic thumping in the distance.

“Whose is it?” I asked.

“We’re checking the registration now,” Ward said. “But Arthur, you need to move fast.”

“I’m going in,” I said.

“Be careful,” Ward said. “The Senator isn’t the only one who knows you’re alive.”

The call went dead.

I slipped the phone back into my pocket.

I began to walk up the driveway, the gravel crunching under my boots.

The rain washed the dirt from my hands as I walked.

I reached the stone steps leading to the front porch.

The heavy oak doors were closed.

From inside, I heard the sound of glass shattering.

Then, a woman’s scream.

It was Emily.

I did not knock.

I reached for the brass handle and turned it.

The lock was already broken.

The door swung open into the dark foyer.