Delma tossed Amari onto the wet grass of the backyard. Mud splattered against Amari's face. The cold seeped through her torn overalls.

Kyler walked out of the back door. He held a thick leather leash. At the end of the leash, a massive Rottweiler strained against the collar.

Kyler laughed. He walked over and kicked Amari in the ribs. His sneaker connected with a dull thud.

He pulled a coil of rough nylon rope from his pocket. He grabbed Amari's arms. He twisted them behind her back. He wrapped the rope around her wrists and tied her to the trunk of the large oak tree. The bark scraped her skin raw.

The Rottweiler lunged forward. Its jaws snapped inches from Amari's face. Saliva flew from its teeth.

Amari squeezed her eyes shut. Her body shook violently. She pressed her head back against the tree. She waited for the teeth to sink in.

Kyler unclipped the leash. He dropped it in the mud.

The dog roared. It lunged at Amari. Its teeth caught the leg of her overalls and ripped the fabric.

Back at the hospital, Nurse Jenna pushed the door to Room 302 open, her eyes wide with panic. The heart monitor was flashing red. She sprinted toward the bed to check the disconnected leads.

On the bed, Evalyn's eyelids snapped open. Her sclera was entirely red with broken blood vessels.

She gasped. Air rushed into her lungs. Her chest heaved up and down. The sudden expansion burned her ribs.

She focused all her energy on her right shoulder. Her muscles trembled. Her arm lifted an inch off the mattress.

Her hand found the plastic mask on her face. She gripped the edge. She ripped it off. The elastic band snapped against her cheek.

She reached for her left hand. She grabbed the IV line. She yanked it out. Blood spurted from the vein and dripped onto the white sheets.

Nurse Jenna froze, letting out a startled gasp. "Mrs. Dale? You're-"

Evalyn didn't have the strength to speak. She threw her dead weight sideways. She rolled her body to the edge. She slid off the mattress. Her atrophied legs gave out instantly. Her knees slammed into the hard floor. The impact sent a shockwave up her spine.

"Help! I need a doctor!" Nurse Jenna screamed, turning toward the hallway.

Evalyn bit down on her tongue. She couldn't let them sedate her. She dragged her heavy, useless legs across the linoleum, using her forearms to pull herself toward the emergency wall phone mounted low near the baseboard.

She reached the phone. Her fingers shook so hard she dropped the receiver twice. She picked it up. She slammed her palm against the single red speed-dial button.

The line clicked. A long, electronic verification tone buzzed in her ear.

Her heart hammered against her sternum. Sweat dripped down her neck.

The tone stopped. A deep male voice spoke.

Evalyn's lips parted. They were cracked and bleeding. "Andres."

On the other end of the line, glass shattered against a hard floor.

Evalyn spoke fast. Her voice sounded like gravel. She gave the town name. She gave the address. She told him Amari was going to die.

Above her, medical staff rushed into the room, their voices a chaotic blur.

Evalyn dropped the phone. Her vision went black. She slumped against the wall, her body sliding down to the floor.

The ceramic coffee mug slipped from Andres's hand. It hit the marble floor of the Manhattan lab. It shattered into dozens of white shards.

Scalding coffee splashed onto his custom wool trousers. The heat burned his skin. He didn't flinch.

He gripped his phone. His knuckles turned stark white. The plastic casing creaked under his grip.

"Evalyn!" he yelled into the receiver.

Silence.

The lab door swung open. His assistant, Corinne, rushed in.

Andres ignored her. He lunged across the room to his computer terminal. His fingers hammered the keyboard. He typed in a Level 9 clearance password.

The screen flashed black, then green. A military-grade satellite tracking map appeared. He routed the incoming call signal.

A red dot blinked on the map. It locked onto a remote town in Pennsylvania.

He grabbed his suit jacket from the chair. He walked toward the door. He pulled a second phone from his pocket. He pressed the single red button. The family emergency line. The activation of that specific encrypted frequency sent a silent shockwave through a hidden global network.

On Wall Street, Barron sat at the head of a massive mahogany table. The CEO of a rival firm was speaking.

Barron's custom Patek Philippe watch vibrated. The face flashed a solid, blinding red.

Barron stood up. His thighs hit the heavy leather chair. It tipped backward and crashed onto the floor. He walked out of the room without a word.

At Harvard University, Elwin stood in front of a chalkboard. He was writing a complex economic equation.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out. He saw the red alert. He dropped the chalk. It shattered on the floor. He sprinted up the aisle and out the double doors.

In North Carolina, Colonel Johnie stood at the firing range. The smell of gunpowder hung in the air.

His adjutant ran up to him. He handed Johnie a flashing black comms device. Johnie looked at the screen. He handed his rifle to the adjutant. He turned and jogged toward the helipad.

In Hollywood, Finley stood on a dirt set. Cameras rolled. A massive explosion went off behind him.

His phone vibrated against his chest. He pulled it out. He read the screen. He ignored the director screaming. He sprinted past the cameras and the bewildered crew toward the edge of the lot, where his personal Ducati motorcycle was parked. He threw his leg over the leather seat. He twisted the throttle, the engine roaring to life, and sped off the lot into the California traffic.

Less than an hour later, on a private helipad overlooking the Hudson River, three black helicopters idled. The rotors spun, creating a deafening roar.

Andres stepped out of the elevator. He carried a silver trauma kit. He climbed into the lead chopper.

Barron walked up behind him. Ten men in black tactical gear flanked him. They carried assault rifles.

The downdraft from the blades whipped their clothes. It blew the loose trash off the roof.

The choppers lifted off the pad. They banked sharply to the southwest.

Inside the cabin, Barron's tablet screen showed Elwin, Johnie, and Finley connecting via a secure video link. They were already mobilizing their own private jets and tactical teams from their respective coasts, converging on the same coordinates. His eyes were dead, devoid of emotion.

Barron held a phone to his ear. He spoke to the Pennsylvania State Police Commissioner. The call lasted exactly ten seconds. Barron hung up.

The three helicopters tore through the cloud layer. They flew at maximum speed, cutting a straight line toward the target.

The Rottweiler lunged. Its teeth sank into the flesh of Amari's calf.

Amari let out a weak, breathless scream. Her body jerked against the rough bark of the oak tree.

Kyler stood ten feet away. He threw his head back and laughed. He held his phone up, recording the blood dripping down Amari's leg.

Inside the living room, Delma and Jazmyne sat on the white sofa. They clinked two crystal glasses of red wine together.

A low rumble vibrated through the floorboards. The sound grew louder. It turned into a deafening, rhythmic chopping noise.

Outside, a massive gust of wind hit the backyard. The plastic lawn chairs flipped over and smashed against the fence.

Kyler lowered his phone. He looked up. Three massive black helicopters hovered directly over the house.

The noise was absolute. The Rottweiler flattened its ears. It released Amari's leg. It tucked its tail between its legs and bolted under the porch.

The lead helicopter didn't touch the ground. The side door slid open.

Andres grabbed a thick black rope. He slid down. He dropped fifteen feet and hit the muddy grass. His knees bent to absorb the impact.

He didn't pause. He sprinted straight toward the oak tree, his medical kit swinging from his shoulder, his eyes locked entirely on the bleeding little girl.

Behind him, a heavily armored tactical guard slid down the rope. The guard landed, his rifle already raised. He aimed. He pulled the trigger.

Bang. The bullet hit the dog under the porch. Its head snapped back. It dropped dead.

Kyler dropped his phone. He screamed. His legs gave out. He collapsed into a puddle of mud.

Andres sprinted to the oak tree. He saw Amari slumped against the trunk. Her dress was soaked in blood.

His eyes turned rimmed with red. His hands shook as he grabbed the thick nylon rope. He pulled a folding knife from his pocket and sliced through the knots.

The tension released. Amari fell forward. Andres dropped the knife. He caught her. Her small, limp body pressed against his chest.

The other two helicopters touched down on the street in front of the house.

Fifteen tactical guards kicked the wrought-iron front gates open. They swarmed the porch. They smashed the front door off its hinges.

Delma jumped. The wine glass slipped from her fingers. It shattered on the expensive Persian rug. Red wine soaked into the fabric like blood.

Jazmyne opened her mouth to scream. A guard grabbed her by the back of the neck. He slammed her face-down onto the glass coffee table. The glass cracked.

Barron walked through the broken doorway. He adjusted the cuffs of his suit.

His leather shoes stepped on the broken wine glass. The shards crunched under his weight.

He stopped in front of the sofa. He looked down at the two women. His eyes held the cold, empty stare of a man looking at roadkill.

Outside, sirens wailed. Four state police cruisers skidded to a halt at the end of the street.

The officers got out. They looked at the men in tactical gear. They looked at the helicopters. They pulled yellow tape from their trunks and blocked off the street. They did not take a single step closer.

Andres ran out of the backyard. He held Amari tight against his chest.

A medical team rushed out of the lead chopper. They pushed a mobile stretcher across the lawn.

Andres laid Amari on the white mattress. He grabbed an oxygen mask and strapped it over her pale face.

He turned to Barron. "She's losing too much blood. We need a Level 1 trauma center right now."

The medics pushed the stretcher up the ramp into the helicopter. Andres jumped in behind them. The doors slammed shut. The chopper lifted off, leaving the house behind.