Chapter 12 - The Serpent's Nest in the North
The small airfield in the northern woods was little more than a strip of cracked asphalt and a rusted hangar.
It was the kind of place where things went to disappear,
where the law didn't reach and the locals knew better than to look.
I was in the back of a tactical van,
the air thick with the smell of gun oil and sweat.
Thorne was beside me,
checking his equipment,
his face a mask of professional intensity.
We had tracked the helicopter’s transponder to this location,
but we knew Dominic wouldn't be standing on the runway waiting for us.
"He’s in the lodge,"
Thorne said,
pointing to a structure half-hidden by the trees.
"Thermal scans show four individuals.
One matches Ward’s profile.
The others are likely his personal security."
"I’m going in with the first wave,"
I said,
reaching for a tactical vest.
Thorne looked at me,
his brow furrowed.
"Absolutely not.
You’re a civilian asset,
Judge.
Your job is to stay in the van and wait for the arrest."
"I am the warrant,
Thorne,"
I said,
fastening the straps of the vest.
"I am the authority.
If Dominic sees you,
he’ll start shooting.
If he sees me,
he’ll start talking.
And I need him to talk."
Thorne sighed,
knowing he couldn't win this argument.
"Fine.
But you stay behind the point man.
If a single shot is fired,
you hit the dirt and stay there.
Understood?"
"Understood,"
I lied.
We moved through the woods in a coordinated sweep,
the only sound the soft crunch of pine needles under our boots.
The air was freezing,
turning our breath into white plumes.
The lodge was a sprawling cabin made of dark logs,
with large windows that looked out over the valley.
It was beautiful,
serene,
and entirely deadly.
As we reached the perimeter,
Thorne gave the signal.
The team moved with the precision of a clockwork mechanism.
The front door was breached with a controlled charge,
the wood splintering into a thousand shards.
"FBI!
Show me your hands!"
The shouts echoed through the cabin.
I followed close behind,
my eyes scanning the room.
The interior was luxurious,
filled with expensive art and leather furniture.
A fire was roaring in the hearth,
the flames casting long,
dancing shadows on the walls.
In the center of the room,
Dominic was sitting in a high-backed chair,
a glass of wine in his hand.
He didn't look surprised.
He didn't even look concerned.
"You’re late,
Victoria,"
he said,
taking a slow sip of the wine.
"I expected you twenty minutes ago.
The weather must be worse than the forecast suggested."
The tactical team had his guards on the floor,
their weapons secured.
But Dominic remained untouched,
as if he were protected by an invisible barrier.
"Stand up,
Dominic,"
Thorne commanded,
his rifle trained on the man's chest.
"It’s over."
Dominic laughed,
a soft,
musical sound that made my skin crawl.
"Is it?
Have you checked the news in the last five minutes,
Agent Thorne?"
I stepped forward,
ignoring Thorne’s warning hand.
"What have you done?"
Dominic looked at me,
his eyes shining with a feverish light.
"I haven't done anything.
I’ve simply let the truth out.
The real truth.
The kind that people like you spend their whole lives trying to bury."
He picked up a remote and turned on the television mounted above the fireplace.
The screen showed a live feed from the city.
The federal building—my building—was surrounded by thousands of protesters.
But they weren't protesting Dominic.
They were protesting the court.
They were holding signs with the leaked photos of me,
with the documents Echo had helped me procure.
They were calling for my arrest.
They were calling the entire federal judiciary a "nest of vipers."
"You see,
Victoria,"
Dominic said,
standing up and smoothing his jacket.
"You can arrest me.
You can even kill me.
But I’ve already destroyed the one thing you care about more than your children.
I’ve destroyed the people's faith in the law.
And once that’s gone,
there is no such thing as a crime.
There is only power."
I looked at the screen,
at the angry faces of the people I had sworn to serve.
They didn't know the context.
They didn't know the lies.
They only saw the appearance of corruption,
and in the court of public opinion,
appearance was reality.
"You’re a virus,
Dominic,"
I said,
my voice trembling with a mixture of rage and grief.
"You infect everything you touch.
But a virus can be cured."
"Not this one,"
he said,
stepping toward me.
"This one is systemic.
This one is part of the DNA now."
Suddenly,
a high-pitched whine filled the air.
Thorne’s radio crackled with static.
"Sir!
We have multiple incoming signatures!
Unmarked helicopters!"
Dominic smiled,
a cold,
final expression.
"Those aren't my men,
Victoria.
Those are the people who pay for my services.
And they really don't want me talking to a grand jury."
The windows shattered as heavy-caliber rounds began to rake the cabin.
"Get down!"
Thorne yelled,
tackling me to the floor as the room dissolved into chaos.
The rescuers weren't there to save Dominic.
May you like
They were there to silence him.
And they were more than happy to take us out in the process.
