Chapter 16 - The Ghost of the Lake
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The black speedboat cut through the mist of Lake Lucerne like a shark. Aboard, the lead mercenary stared at the two boys cowering in the stern, his hand hovering over the detonator for the explosives he’d planted in the villa.
"Keep them quiet," he barked at the driver. "The extraction point is three miles out. We deliver them to the Apex transport, we get the final payout, and we disappear."
Suddenly, the engine sputtered.
The driver frowned, checking the throttle. "What the hell? We have half a tank."
The boat slowed, then drifted to a complete halt in the middle of the lake, miles from the shore. The mist curled around them, thick and suffocating.
"Start the engine!" the lead mercenary growled.
"I’m trying!" the driver yelled, hitting the ignition. Nothing.
From the mist, a soft, mechanical hum grew louder. It was the sound of a drone—a large, heavy-lift industrial drone, the kind used for remote surveillance and cargo delivery. It hovered above the boat, its bright landing lights cutting through the darkness, blinding the mercenaries.
"What is that?" one of the men asked, shielding his eyes.
A voice, amplified by the drone’s speaker, echoed across the water. It was Sarah’s voice, cold and devoid of mercy.
"You took my children from a house that you thought you controlled," the voice said. "But you forgot that I’m the one who built the foundation."
"Shoot it!" the mercenary screamed, pulling his rifle and firing at the drone.
The drone didn't move. Instead, it released a heavy, metallic canister that landed with a splash beside the boat.
"Gas!" the driver shouted.
The canister hissed, releasing a thick, odorless cloud that enveloped the boat. Within seconds, the mercenaries began to cough, their eyes streaming, their movements slowing as the synthetic sedative—the same one they had tried to use on the Vance family—took hold.
One by one, the mercenaries slumped over, unconscious.
The drone descended, hovering just feet above the deck. A harness dropped down, snagging onto the railing of the boat. A high-speed winch pulled the craft toward a larger, sleek vessel that emerged from the mist—a private yacht, bristling with high-tech sensors and armed security.
Sarah stood on the deck of the yacht, her face a mask of iron.
As the speedboat was pulled alongside, she stepped across, her eyes locked on Lucas and Ethan.
"Mom!" they cried, rushing into her arms.
Sarah held them, her heart finally steadying. She looked down at the unconscious mercenaries, then back at the yacht captain, who stood waiting for orders.
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"Take them to the Zurich authorities," she commanded, her voice steady and lethal. "And make sure the Apex Syndicate knows exactly who sent them."
She turned, taking her sons’ hands, and walked back to the safety of the yacht. The hunt was over, but the war had just begun. And this time, there would be no prisoners.
