The snow fell thick over the Sierra pines, muffling the roar of my twin-turbocharged engine as I crested the final ridge above Lake Tahoe.

Arthur didn't pull away. He didn't fight as Reynolds yanked his arms behind his tailored coat and clicked the cold steel around his wrists.

Instead, as Miller reached down to seize Arthur’s brass-fitted leather briefcase, a sudden, grotesque smirk spread across Arthur’s bloodless lips.

"You think you’ve won, don't you, Alex?" Arthur whispered, laughing with a wet, jagged rattle in his chest. "You think you’re the smartest man in the room because you closed a deal in Texas and brought the feds into Lake Tahoe."

I watched him, my instincts immediately screaming a red alert. "What did you do, Arthur?"

"Do you really think Julian Croft was my only insurance policy?" Arthur sneered, staring directly into my eyes with unfiltered malice. "Julian Croft was a loud, expensive decoy. Sterling and I knew there was a chance you’d come home early with private muscle. We knew Vance might break under federal pressure."

Liam Cross burst through the dining room doors, his tactical radio blaring loud bursts of static and panicked chatter.

"Alex! We have an emergency at the perimeter!" Liam barked, his handgun drawn and held at the low ready. "The perimeter sensors on the north gate just went dark! Cell towers in the canyon are being jammed by an active military-grade pulsed EMP!"

Special Agent Reynolds whirled around, his hand dropping to his service weapon. "What? Who’s on the north gate?"

Arthur’s laughter grew louder, ringing horribly against the cedar-paneled walls.

"You spent so much time tracking the money in Grand Cayman, Alex, you didn't look at Croft’s manifest from yesterday morning," Arthur whispered, his teeth bared in triumphant spite. "Croft didn't come to Tahoe alone. He brought a recovery team out of Reno. Six former private contractors. When the radio silence order triggered at nine o’clock without my clearance code... their secondary directive went live."

My blood ran colder than the ice on the lake.

"The girls," I gasped.

Before the words had completely left my mouth, the double-paned storm glass of the master suite on the east wing shattered with a deafening, percussive crack.