Chapter 22 - The Siege of the Ridge
The arrest of Evelyn Vance, Sheriff Higgins, and Mayor Campbell sent seismic shockwaves through the state government within hours. By dawn, the governor had rescinded every emergency order, and federal warrants were issued for three sitting appellate judges.
Yet, despite the overwhelming victory, a cold knot remained in the pit of my stomach.
"The tactical team that attacked the manor," I said, standing in the mobile command center with Captain Alvarez as morning sunlight broke through the heavy rain clouds. "None of them were local police. Who paid them?"
Alvarez brought up the satellite surveillance of the Sinclair property.
The manor was reduced to smoking, charred ruins, but that wasn't where the threat lay. Two miles north, on the forbidden crest of the southern ridge, heavy earth-moving equipment and two unmarked military-style helicopters had landed overnight.
"Aegis Ridge Logistics isn't letting this evidence get excavated by federal regulators," Alvarez said, pointing at the thermal readouts. "They've deployed a mercenary extraction force. They’re preparing to detonate high-explosive thermite charges along the fault line to collapse the entire ridge into the deep subterranean caverns, burying the chemical barrels thousands of feet beneath bedrock forever."
"If they blow that fault line," Hannah gasped, looking up from the geological maps, "the chemical plume will rupture the municipal water reservoir that feeds five surrounding counties. It’ll poison half a million people within forty-eight hours."
"We move now," I said, pulling on my tactical rig and securing my primary rifle.
"Rebecca, wait," Hannah caught my sleeve, her eyes shining with terror, but also with fierce, unbreakable devotion. "You just got your life back. Your name is cleared. The whole country knows you're a hero. Don't go back up there."
I cupped her cheek, smiling gently. "I survived five years of being a ghost, Hannah. I didn't come back from the dead just to watch this valley burn. Stay here with the Marshals. I’m finishing this."
Ten minutes later, Alvarez, four Marshals tactical teams, and I were roaring up the mountain switchbacks in heavily armored BearCat vehicles.
As we crested the final ridge, the blast of helicopter rotors whipped the rain into a furious vortex. Armed mercenaries in desert-camo plate carriers were stringing orange detonation cords around the massive rusted vent shafts protruding from the ridge.
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"Breach and clear!" Alvarez shouted over the radio. "Do not let them detonate that ridge!"
Gunfire erupted instantly, tearing through the mist as the battle for the valley began.