The Echoes of Obsidian Ridge
CHAPTER 12:
The summit of Blackwood Peak was a desolate, wind-swept plateau dominated by a steel radio transmission tower that rose over a hundred feet into the stormy night sky. Red aviation warning lights pulsed at its apex, casting an eerie crimson glow across the wet granite rocks.
Julian parked his station wagon fifty yards down the gravel access trail, leaving the high beams shining through the fog to obscure their approach.
At the base of the tower, Senator Marcus Vance stood under a wide black umbrella held by a tactical guard. On the wet gravel before him, Arthur and Evelyn Sterling knelt side by side, their hands bound tightly with heavy plastic zip-ties, their faces bruised but calm. Three additional armed guards stood in a defensive perimeter around the central transmitter housing.
“Uncle Marcus!” Julian’s voice boomed across the plateau as he emerged from the tree line, holding the silver flash drive high above his head.
Marcus turned slowly, a cruel, patronizing smile spreading across his face. “Julian. I hoped you had more sense than to play the hero for a family of traitors.”
“Let them go, Marcus!” Julian demanded, taking four measured steps forward while Maya slipped quietly behind a rock formation to the left. “You have the archive burnt to the ground. You have what you wanted!”
“The archive means nothing without the master decryption key in your hand,” Marcus said smoothly, gesturing to his primary guard. “Hand it over, nephew, and I might allow you to return to your music career in peace.”
