The Belial Stone (The Belial Series #1)(52)

He crossed to his desk and retrieved the binoculars he kept in the bottom drawer. Returning to the window, he noticed that the helicopter had drawn nearer and seemed to be heading in the direction of the helipad on the east lawn.

He tried to make out the call signs on the helicopter. A chill went through him. The numbers had been covered up.

He pulled out his phone and dialed his head of Security, Kevin Chung. “Kevin, are you seeing this?”

“We’ve been monitoring the flight. The helo was heading around the estate and then made a beeline towards us. There are no identifying marks on the bird. We’ve tried to hail them. No joy. I have a security detail heading over to it as we speak and I’m heading over to you.”

“Okay. And make sure any staff on Sharecroppers Lane is moved to a secure location. I hope this is nothing. If it isn’t, I need them safe.”

“Already have a team working on it, sir. See you in five.” Kevin hung up.

Henry turned to Patrick, who’d come to stand next to him at the window.

“Problem?” Patrick asked.

He handed him the binoculars. “I’m not sure. I’m probably just being paranoid, but we have no scheduled incomings. Hopefully, somebody’s just lost.”

The helicopter was only about four hundred yards away. “It doesn’t have any call signs,” Patrick said. “And it’s landing.”

Henry and Patrick watched the Jeep Cherokee with the security detail drive across the lawn, a hundred yards from the helicopter.

The side of the helicopter slid open. A man aimed a surface-to-air missile at the Cherokee and fired. The impact flipped the Jeep into the air. It crashed back to earth, a flaming ball of metal.





CHAPTER 42



Saint Paul, MN



Laney closed the bedroom door and leaned against it for a moment with her head bowed. Words sprinted through her mind, but none of them stayed long enough for her to catch. And she didn’t have the strength to focus on the task.

She pushed herself away from the door and walked to the bathroom. She placed her bag on the bathroom counter and started pulling out her shower supplies.

As she turned towards the shower, she caught her first glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. She stifled a scream, as her shampoo and soap dropped to the white tile floor. She stepped closer to the mirror and stared with morbid fascination at her reflection.

Dried blood was smeared across her hair, face, and neck. She reached down to touch her shoulder. Her shirt was stiff with blood. Half of her hair was caked with more blood and lay flat against her face. She looked like she’d stepped out of a horror movie. Although, she supposed, that wasn’t too far from the truth. She couldn’t tear her eyes from her image in the mirror.

Giving herself a mental shake, she turned on the shower, making the water as hot as possible. She stripped off her clothes and dumped them in the garbage. She didn’t want any of them.

Climbing into the shower, she scrubbed her skin and hair until she was raw. Then she stood there, letting the water beat down on her. She had killed a man. She pictured the fight in her mind, cringing with every swipe of her knife. My god, she had killed him without any thought. She had just reacted. Who was she becoming?

Her skin now bruised and pruned, she turned off the shower. Climbing out, she inspected herself in the mirror. All the blood was gone, but she still felt like it was there.

“Out, damned spot,” she whispered, feeling a connection with Shakespeare’s doomed lady.

She grabbed a hotel robe and wrapped it around herself. And then she went still. She reached out a trembling hand to hold onto the wall. Fear, sadness, terror boiled up inside her, clawing their way up her throat.

Her breathing came in jagged bursts. Turning, she slid down the wall. Pulling her legs to her chin, she wrapped her arms around them. Her chest heaved and sobs burst from her.





CHAPTER 43



Baltimore, MD



The wreckage of the Security Jeep cast a glow through the window of Henry’s office.

“We need to move now.” Henry pushed Patrick towards the door before running across the room to the conference table. He half-lifted, half-pulled Danny out of his chair.

“What’s going on?” Danny asked, panic filling his voice. With the noise-buffering windows and his focus on the monitor, he must not have heard Patrick and his conversation.

Henry pulled him towards the door. “The estate is under attack.” He looked back to see that the shooter in the helicopter had reloaded and was aiming for his office.

“Down!” Henry tossed both Patrick and Danny into the hall, before throwing himself on top of them.

He heard and felt the impact of the missile as it slammed into the wall to their right. A wall of flame shot above their heads. Henry rolled off them as the flames receded, his back stinging, smoke choking him. Patrick jumped to his feet, slapping Henry’s back to extinguish the flaming debris that had landed there.

Henry grabbed one of Danny’s arms, while Patrick grabbed the other. Together, they hustled him towards the stairs and down to the second floor.

Patrick started to head down to the first, but Henry grabbed his arm to stop him. “We need some supplies first.”

He crossed the landing to a section of wood paneling along the back wall and pushed a button concealed under the white chair rail. A small portion of the panel slid back, revealing a keypad. He entered a password and another larger panel to his left slid open. He pulled out an M4, a shotgun, two Berettas, and a bag of ammunition. The shotgun and one of the Berettas had been specially crafted to fit his larger hands.