Chapter 5 - The Road to Upstate
By eleven o'clock at night, a torrential rainstorm lashed against the black windows of Victor’s armored SUV as it sped north along the Hudson Valley highway toward upstate New York.
The estate fire had been contained, the traitors neutralized, and the perimeter secured under Frank's command. But time was running out. Midnight was less than sixty minutes away.
Victor sat in the rear passenger seat, dressed in his midnight-black tuxedo, his gold cufflinks glinting under the dim interior lights. In his lap lay the scorched iron box containing his father's final letter.
Beside him sat Celestine, her hands bound in steel handcuffs, her white wedding gown rumpled and stained with soot. Yet her sharp, arrogant expression remained unchanged.
"You're wasting your time, Victor," Celestine said, her voice smooth and mocking over the sound of the rain. "My father has forty armed men surrounding Saint Mary’s Sanctuary right now. By the time you get there, the documents will be signed, or Eleanor will be gone."
Victor didn't look at her. He pulled his heavy tactical sidearm from his coat, checking the magazine with practiced, terrifying efficiency.
"Your father made a mistake forty years ago, Celestine," Victor said, his deep voice carrying a cold vibration. "He thought he could burn my family and walk away. He won't make that mistake twice."
In the front passenger seat, Frank turned around, holding a satellite tablet. "Boss, we just intercepted a private radio transmission from the sanctuary perimeter. Don Vale’s team has established a blockade on the main access road."
"How many men?" Victor asked flatly.
"At least fifteen heavily armed mercenaries," Frank reported. "They have two armored transport vans blocking the bridge."
Victor reached down, pulling a heavy tactical rifle from the floor mount beneath his seat. "We don't negotiate at the bridge, Frank. Ram the blockade."
Celestine’s eyes widened slightly in genuine shock as she looked at Victor's calm, terrifying resolve. "Are you insane?! You'll flip the vehicle!"
"Then put on your seatbelt," Victor replied coldly.
The armored SUV accelerated to eighty miles an hour, its heavy steel bumper roaring through the dark, rain-soaked mountain pass.
Ahead, through the blinding rain, the red taillights of two heavy transport vans blocked the narrow stone bridge leading to Saint Mary’s Sanctuary.
Frank didn't tap the brakes. He locked his hands on the wheel, pressing the accelerator flat against the floor.
BOOM!
The armored SUV slammed directly into the center of the blockade with violent force. Metal crumpled, glass shattered, and one of the mercenary vans was thrown completely off the bridge, crashing into the swollen river below.
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Victor’s SUV plowed through the wreckage, spinning twice on the wet asphalt before coming to a stop on the driveway of the sanctuary.
Victor kicked his door open, stepping out into the storm with his rifle raised, his midnight-black tuxedo soaked with rain, looking like an invincible warlord coming to reclaim his crown.
