They all carried automatic weapons.

The rain dripped from the brim of Mercer’s hat.

Charles looked down at his son bleeding on the lawn.

He did not move to help him.

He looked at me instead.

His face was cold.

“You are a persistent man, Arthur,” Charles said.

His voice was loud, cutting through the wind.

“But you are too late.”

“The servers are already scrubbing.”

“In five minutes, there will be nothing left to connect us to any of it.”

“You will have a dead son,” I said.

“And a prison cell.”

Charles smiled, a thin, bitter line.

“The sheriff here still controls the county roads,” Charles said.

“We have four four-wheel-drive vehicles in the garage.”

“The federal response takes time to coordinate.”

“We will be gone long before they clear the front gates.”

He turned to the guard on his left.

“Kill him,” Charles said quietly.

“Take the girl.”

The three guards stepped forward to the edge of the veranda.

They raised their weapons.

Sheriff Mercer did the same.

I pulled Emily closer behind me.

There was no cover on this part of the lawn.