The steel door swung open with a heavy pneumatic hiss, revealing a room that looked less like an underground cellar and more like a high-tech surveillance command center.

The rain had begun to fall heavy and cold across the Hudson Valley as Dominic and Russell sped toward the north ridge in an all-terrain vehicle. The muddy roads were slick, winding through dense woodland that bordered the outer perimeter of the estate.

Halfway to the helipad, a loud pop echoed through the trees.

The front tire blew out, sending the vehicle skidding violently off the muddy track before crashing into an ancient oak tree. The airbag deployed with a deafening bang.

Coughing through the smoke, Dominic kicked his door open and stumbled out into the freezing rain, gun in hand. Russell emerged from the passenger side, bleeding slightly from a cut on his forehead.

"Sniper!" Russell yelled, pulling Dominic behind a thick rock formation.

A rifle shot cracked through the night air, striking the side of the damaged vehicle. High up in the tree line, a muzzle flash illuminated the shadow of a hired operative. Marcus hadn't come alone; he had used his stolen wealth to hire private mercenaries to secure his escape.

"He's stalling us," Dominic gritted out, wiping blood from his cheek. "He knows the helicopter is arriving."

Dominic signaled Russell. "Cover me. I’m going around the left flank."

Russell raised his sidearm, firing three rapid suppressed shots toward the tree line. Taking advantage of the distraction, Dominic charged into the brush, navigating the dark, slippery terrain with lethal precision.

He closed the distance on the gunman, coming up behind the mercenary silently. With a swift, decisive strike, Dominic neutralized the shooter, taking his long-range rifle and tactical radio.

Dominic picked up the radio. The channel was active.

"Marcus," Dominic said into the transmitter, his voice cold and steady. "I know about thirty years ago. I know about your father."