Chapter 15: The Unseen Strings
The rhythmic thumping of helicopter rotors sliced through the rain. A sleek, unmarked black Blackhawk descended
rapidly, hovering just above the tree line. Its landing lights blinded Jack as he shielded Lily, pulling his empty
revolver and aiming it uselessly at the massive machine.
The helicopter touched down, throwing mud and pine needles in a hurricane-force wash. The side door slid open.
Jack expected armed operatives. He expected another syndicate hit squad.
Instead, a single figure stepped out into the storm. He wore a heavy wool trench coat, his face obscured by the
darkness and the driving rain. The man walked slowly toward them, his hands raised in a placating gesture.
Lightning flashed, illuminating the man's face for a fraction of a second.
Jack’s breath hitched in his throat. The revolver fell from his trembling hands, splashing into the mud.
"Hello, Jack," the man said. His voice was calm, familiar, and absolutely impossible.
It was Arthur. His dead brother.
Arthur looked at the burning wreckage of the bunker, then down at Lily, who was frozen in shock. A faint, cold
smile crept across Arthur’s face.
"Thank you for clearing out the board, brother," Arthur said softly. "I couldn't have seized control of the Syndicate
without you."
Arthur gestured to the helicopter, where three men in the same powder-blue suits Evelyn had favored were now
standing, raising assault rifles.
"Now, hand over the girl."
Jack realized with sickening dread that Evelyn had never been the puppet master. She was just a piece on the board.
The real architect of this nightmare had been dead the whole time.
May you like
Jack clenched his fists, blood dripping from his knuckles, as the sound of the helicopter rotors faded into a
deafening roar.
