Chapter 18 - THE NEVADA CIPHER: PURSUIT ACROSS THE DESERT
The landscape changed from the lush greens of the East Coast to the jagged,
rust-colored peaks of the Nevada desert.
I had driven for forty-eight hours straight,
stopping only for gas and to keep Lily fed.
We were in a new vehicle now,
a nondescript Ford truck I had traded for the Range Rover in a dusty lot in Utah.
The air was dry and hot,
smelling of sagebrush and ancient dust.
The coordinates Sarah had given me led to a place that didn't exist on any map.
A "blank spot" in the desert,
guarded by private security and the silence of the sand.
"Are we going to see Grandma?"
Lily asked,
staring out at the shimmering horizon.
"No,
sweetheart,"
I said,
my eyes scanning the mirrors for the black SUVs I knew were still behind us.
"We're going to finish a job."
The Syndicate was tracking me,
of that I was certain.
Thorne would have seen the biometric bypass.
He knew I had Sarah’s message.
As I turned off the main highway onto a gravel road,
a cloud of dust appeared in the distance.
Not one vehicle.
Ten.
They were closing in.
I floored the accelerator,
the truck bouncing over the ruts.
The coordinates were only five miles away.
Suddenly,
the sky above us roared.
A black helicopter,
devoid of any markings,
descended from the clouds.
It banked sharply,
the side door sliding open to reveal a sniper.
The first shot hit the hood of the truck,
sending a spray of steam into the windshield.
"Lily,
get down on the floor!"
I yelled,
swerving the truck to avoid the next round.
The gravel road ended at a massive steel gate set into the side of a mountain.
There was no keypad.
No guard shack.
Just a smooth,
featureless surface of reinforced titanium.
I pulled the hard drive from my pocket and held it up to the camera mounted above the gate.
"I know you're watching,
Jonathan!"
I shouted,
my voice swallowed by the roar of the helicopter.
"Open the gate,
or I destroy the drive right here!"
The helicopter hovered,
the sniper’s red dot dancing across my chest.
For a heartbeat,
the world stood still.
The wind howled across the desert,
carrying the scent of ozone and impending rain.
Then,
with a low,
grinding sound,
the titanium gate began to slide upward.
I didn't wait.
I drove the steaming truck into the darkness of the mountain just as the helicopter fired a rocket into the road behind us.
The gate slammed shut,
sealing us inside.
The silence was immediate.
The air inside the mountain was cool,
filtered,
and smelled of electricity.
I stepped out of the truck,
holding Lily’s hand.
We were standing in a hangar the size of a football field.
But there were no planes.
Only rows and rows of black servers,
their lights blinking in a synchronized rhythm.
The heart of the Syndicate.
The brain of the Phoenix Protocol.
And standing at the end of the hangar,
flanked by two men in suits,
was Jonathan Thorne.
He looked exactly the same as the day he had stood at my wedding.
Polished.
Calm.
Deadly.
"Welcome home,
Mark,"
he said,
his voice echoing through the chamber.
"I must say,
your arrival was much more dramatic than I anticipated."
"Where is the exit,
Jonathan?"
I asked,
my grip on Lily’s hand tightening.
"The exit?"
Thorne laughed,
a sound that was devoid of any warmth.
"There is no exit for the Vances."
"And there is no exit for the Millers."
"You are here to witness the birth of a new world."
May you like
"And then,
you are here to die."
