BEYOND THE EMBERS OF VENGEANCE

Matteo dropped the receiver, his face turning to stone. "Hayes is dead."

Anna felt the floor tilt beneath her boots. Director Hayes had been their sole firewall against the world, the only man holding the keys to their sealed identities. Without him, they weren't protected citizens—they were the most wanted fugitives in the hemisphere.

"Check the optics," Matteo ordered, sliding the assault case across the hardwood floor toward her.

Anna flipped the latches open, pulling out a pair of thermal binoculars while Matteo racked the bolt of a suppressed carbine. She crawled to the edge of the shattered window, peering through the broken frame into the pine tree line.

What she saw made her blood run cold.

The mist was alive with heat signatures. Six tactical operators in desert camouflage and ceramic body armor were moving down the slope in a disciplined wedge formation. Behind them, hovering over the trees, was an unmarked military-grade surveillance drone painting their roof with infrared targeting beacons.

"They aren't syndicate hitmen," Anna whispered, her voice tight. "They have thermal camo, suppressed carbines, and coordinated point-men. It's a black-ops strike team."

"Vance International’s private security contractors," Matteo said grimly, chambering a round. "Alexander Vance had secret offshore trust funds designated for Hayes's elimination in the event of his conviction. The board is liquidating every loose end."

"They're painting the propane tanks outside," Anna warned, noticing the twin laser sights converging on the massive steel fuel cylinder next to the garage.

"Move!" Matteo roared.

He seized Anna’s arm, hauling her toward the reinforced steel hatch leading down into the subterranean storm cellar.

Behind them, the sniper round hit the propane valve.

The explosion was catastrophic. A roaring wall of orange flame tore through the timber walls, the shockwave lifting them both off their feet and slamming them into the stone stairs of the cellar just as Matteo pulled the heavy blast door shut.

The timber structure above them collapsed into a raging inferno, the thunder of falling beams shaking the concrete bunker. Dust and embers filtered through the intake vents as the roar of fire consumed their two years of peace.

In the dim emergency red light of the cellar, Anna coughed violently, wiping blood from a gash on her wrist.

Matteo stood over her, his eyes blazing in the crimson gloom. He racked his weapon and unlocked the secondary emergency tunnel that led two hundred yards down to the private boat cove on the sound.

"They think we burned in the collapse," Matteo said, his voice flat with lethal resolve. "We have twenty minutes to reach the skiff before they clear the rubble."

"Where do we go?" Anna asked, standing tall, ignoring the searing pain in her wrist. "If Hayes's files are compromised, every port and border is a death trap."