Chapter 5 - The Cabin in the Woods
The flight to New York was silent. Gideon stared out the window of the private jet, the silver locket clasped tightly in his fist. He kept playing Nolan’s confession over and over in his head.
She survived.
If Lydia had survived the initial crash, she had been alive for two years. Two years of hiding, wondering if her husband was hunting her, or if he was part of the conspiracy. Silas would have told her that Gideon wanted her dead. It was the perfect lie to keep her from running back to Chicago.
Upon landing, Gideon’s team took three unmarked black SUVs into the deep woods of upstate New York, near the Adirondacks where Silas Mercer kept his fortress. But Gideon didn't go straight to Silas. First, he went to the coordinates Pierce’s tech team had pulled from Victor’s phone records—the enforcer who had gone rogue to save Clara.
Deep in the pines, they found a small, secluded cabin. The front door was hanging off its hinges.
Gideon stepped inside, his gun drawn. The air inside smelled of pine, old paper, and the distinct, metallic tang of dried blood. The living room was trashed. Furniture was overturned, and bullet holes riddled the wooden walls.
Gideon walked into the bedroom. On the nightstand sat a small bottle of lavender soap, tipped on its side. Next to it was a hand-knitted baby blanket, identical to the one Clara had been wrapped in.
“Boss,” Pierce said, kneeling by a dark stain on the floorboards. “This blood is about forty-eight hours old. There was a firefight here. Victor took the baby and ran, but someone else was hit.”
Gideon touched the mattress. It was cold. But on the pillow, he found a long, dark strand of hair. He held it up to the light. It was the exact shade of brown as Lydia’s.
A sudden sound broke the silence—a faint, ragged gasp from the closet.
Gideon spun around, his weapon raised. Pierce kicked the closet door open.
Inside, slumped against a stack of winter coats, was a man in a bloody security uniform. It was Victor. He was holding his stomach, his face pale as death.
“Mr... Mr. Mercer,” Victor whispered, his eyes fluttering. “You... you found her?”
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Gideon dropped to his knees beside the dying man. “Clara is safe. She’s at Ironwood. Where is Lydia, Victor? Where is my wife?”
Victor let out a bloody cough, a grim smile touching his lips. “Silas... Silas took her. He didn't kill her yet. He wanted... he wanted to know who else she told. He has her at the estate. Hurry, sir... he knows you’re coming.”
