Chapter 4 - The Ghost of the Past
Smoke and ash filled the air as the Russian assault team swarmed the grounds.
I grabbed my mother’s wheelchair and pushed her toward the secret panic room behind my bookshelf.
Clara provided covering fire, taking down two mercenaries who tried to breach the office.
We sealed the heavy steel door just as a barrage of bullets hammered against the other side.
The panic room was stocked with medical supplies, weapons, and a secure communication line.
My mother coughed violently, the stress of the attack clearly taking a severe toll on her frail body.
I hooked her up to the emergency oxygen tank and turned to face Clara.
“You fight like a ghost,” I said, genuinely impressed by her lethal skills.
Clara reloaded her weapon, her face pale and covered in soot.
She confessed that she was trained by the last surviving loyalists of her father’s crew.
“They wanted me to kill you, Bennett,” she admitted quietly.
I tightened my grip on my rifle, wondering if she was about to finish the job right now.
“But when I saw how you cared for Eleanor, I realized you weren't the monster they claimed,” Clara continued.
My mother grabbed Clara's hand, thanking her for choosing mercy over vengeance.
The radio on the wall suddenly crackled to life with a burst of static.
A deep, raspy voice echoed through the small metal room.
“Hello, Eleanor,” the voice said calmly.
My mother’s eyes widened in absolute, unfiltered terror.
“It can't be,” my mother gasped, clutching her chest in pain.
May you like
The man on the radio chuckled darkly.
“Did you really think you could bury me forever, Eleanor?” Arthur Reed asked.
