Somewhere over New England, Present Day

The craft shook violently as an opposing cross wind slammed into Mr. Henry’s helicopter. Nigel gazed out the window as he considered his next move. Increasing cloud cover and the setting sun decreased visibility. Blanka piloted with precision. Mr. Henry seemed to be having a difficult time keeping up as her copilot.

“The signal is coming from there,” Vedrana said as she pointed to the west.

Eva removed a coat sleeve to reveal a metal left arm from the elbow down. She cursed as the turbulence caused her to misjudge her arm and poke herself with the business end of a screwdriver.

“Dammit, keep it steady, Blanka,” Eva said.

“I’m doing my best to keep this bird in the air.”

Thunder crackled, and lightning lit the darkening sky as Blanka descended into the clouds below. Splotches of rain hit the windshield. Soon it was pouring so hard that Nigel could barely see anything out the window.

“We’re coming in too fast,” Mr. Henry shouted.

“Don’t snap at her. She’s doing the best she can,” Nigel said to Mr. Henry.

Mr. Henry turned and said something that Nigel couldn’t make out.

“What?”

Mr. Henry unlatched his belt and faced Nigel. “The helicopter will stall before we can land safely.”

Nigel felt a sudden jolt as the helicopter broke through the clouds and into the storm below. He could barely see anything through the pounding rain and wind. The movement sent Mr. Henry flying headfirst into the side of the helicopter. He was slumped over and not moving. His body shifted and fell on Blanka.

I hope he isn’t dead!

“Someone get him before I lose control,” she said.

Nigel undid his belt, then pulled Mr. Henry off Blanka. He cinched the belt around Mr. Henry’s chest to keep him in place. He had to pull a little tighter than he wanted to keep him from moving from his seat. Nigel winced at the blood dripping across Mr. Henry’s face.

That wound is going to need some attention once we land—if we land.

He barely had enough time to buckle his seatbelt before the chopper careened to one side. An unexpected lightning strike almost blinded him. The rolling wave of thunder echoed throughout the cabin of the chopper. It was pandemonium.

“That was too close! We need to land now,” Blanka said.

“Vedrana, what’s the status on the signal?” Nigel shouted over the noise.

“It’s getting stronger, Nigel. We’re getting close.”

Suddenly, there was a loud, screeching sound, and the helicopter lurched to the side. Nigel heard Blanka swearing in Slovakian as she fought to regain control of the craft.

“What the hell was that?” Eva yelled, clutching her metal arm.

Nigel looked out the window and saw a dark shape darting through the storm, barely visible in the flashes of lightning. It was like nothing he had ever seen before.

Then, he saw the building. It was a massive, decrepit structure looming out of the darkness. The signal was coming from inside.

“Blanka, set us down on the roof.”

She expertly maneuvered the helicopter toward the rooftop landing pad. Nigel’s heart raced as they approached the building, unsure of what awaited them inside. The storm raged on, making it difficult to see. The intensity of the rain increased as the helicopter was within meters of the landing pad. A bang and a crackling sound emanated from the aircraft. The sensation made Nigel’s teeth ache.

“Is everyone all right?” Blanka asked.

Nigel’s seatbelt was stuck, and he struggled to break free of its grip on him.

“Allow me, Nigel,” Vedrana said, cutting his harness with her knife.

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A group of men approached the helicopter. Something got stuck in Nigel’s throat. Eva had her handgun at the ready, but Nigel put a hand over it. She lowered the weapon.

“Where’s Mr. Henry?” a burly man asked.

“He hit his head,” Nigel said, pointing to the copilot seat.

“Come with us. We’ll get you out of this storm.”

“Our pilots have to stay with the ’copter.”

The guard spoke into a radio. Within moments, Nigel and his companions were surrounded by heavily armed guards.

“What’s the meaning of this? We have wounded,” Nigel said.

“You’ve landed on the roof of a restricted facility, so forgive me if I don’t trust you,” a guard said.

Nigel and his companions were herded into the building. One of the guards led Nigel and his beautiful assassins through several hallways. Finally, they entered a large room with a vault door at the far end. A man in a black coat stood in front of the door, leaning against a cane.

“Welcome to Strahinja Vraza’s secret base. I am Professor Paladin.”

The older man appeared to be in his sixties and was dressed in black. His pencil-thin mustache reminded Nigel of an old-timey villain. The man’s steely gray eyes seemed to penetrate Nigel’s soul. Smoke spread around the brim of his hat. Nigel was surprised that the pipe wasn’t extinguished by the soggy evening, but the man’s hat provided all the protection it needed to stay lit.

“Who? Mr. Henry was supposed to be taking us to a US government facility so we could help with the Doc Chop crisis,” Nigel said.

Professor Paladin chuckled. “Mr. Henry was a mere puppet of Strahinja Vraza. He was never taking you to any government facility. You are here because we require your unique set of skills.”

Nigel felt a chill run down his spine. His countless hours of Dark Web research had paid off. He had heard of Strahinja Vraza before, but he never thought he would be face-to-face with anyone from the notorious criminal group.

“What does Strahinja Vraza want with us?” Vedrana asked, her hand already on the handle of her pistol.

“Vraza has been impressed with your work, specifically your skills in subduction,” Paladin said, eyeing Blanka. “He wishes to put your abilities to the test.”

Nigel’s mind raced as he tried to come up with a plan. He couldn’t let Paladin use them for his own twisted purposes, but they were heavily outnumbered and outgunned.

Suddenly, Blanka stepped forward and spoke.

“I’ll do it.”

“What about the Cabal? I hope you’re not helping them!” Nigel said to Professor Paladin.

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, I’m not allied with the Cabal. They are my enemy. I just want to put your skills to the test against them. If you succeed, I will reward you handsomely.”

Nigel and the others exchanged glances. They had faced plenty of danger before, but this was different. They were going up against a powerful enemy, and the stakes were higher than ever before.

The group looked at Blanka in silence. She nodded firmly.

“We accept.”

“You say that you require our skills. For what?” Nigel demanded. “I didn’t break free from the notorious Black Heart to work for another master. We must put a stop to Doc Chop before the world as we know it collapses. The Cabal has already set that into motion to cover up Doc Chop’s diabolical scheme to turn New York’s citizens into his cybernetic slaves.”

Professor Paladin sneered. “You seem to be mistaken. I don’t care about Doc Chop. I have my own problems.”

Nigel’s jaw clenched in frustration. They were wasting precious time with this pointless conversation. He had to focus on their mission—stopping the Cabal and securing the world’s financial stability. He intended to hit them where it hurt: their wallet. The crypto attack was a mere stepping stone to what needed to be done.

“We’ll do whatever it takes to get the job done,” Nigel said firmly, his eyes meeting Blanka’s.

She nodded in agreement, her hand instinctively tightening around the handle of her pistol. Nigel couldn’t help but feel a sense of admiration for her.

“Good,” Professor Paladin said with a cruel grin. “Because you’re going to need every ounce of skill you possess to face the Cabal.”

He turned and motioned for the guards to open the vault door. Nigel watched in amazement as the massive steel slab slowly creaked open, revealing a dimly lit room filled with a familiar sight. Rows of humming machines with flashing lights could only be one thing: a server farm. Nigel recognized several quantum computers, the most powerful in the world.

Professor Paladin smiled at Nigel.

“Well, what do you think, my boy?”

A flash of memory entered Nigel’s mind. He was trying to get into a massive vault much like this one. A woman in her early thirties protected him as they fought to enter. Weapons fired at them from several directions. As they took on a barrage of assailants, she fell. Her lovely golden hair was filled with blood. She told him to run. To his eternal shame, he did.

Natasha!

Tears welled in his eyes and a lump formed in his throat. He couldn’t speak. The painful memory of the death of his first mentor haunted him.

“Nigel, what’s the matter?” Blanka said.

He blinked and rubbed the moisture from his eyes.

“With this computing power, we can track the Cabal’s movements faster, no?” Professor Paladin said.

Nigel felt the weight of their mission pressing down on him. He had to succeed, for the world’s sake.

“We can do this,” he said, more to himself than anyone else.

Blanka put a comforting hand over his, and a tinge of arousal threatened to overwhelm him.

“Take your time, Nigel.”

Professor Paladin grabbed Nigel and pulled him close. A group of men surrounded the group. Blanka, Eva, and Vedrana closed in, weapons drawn.

“Take another step and I will slit his throat. All I want to do is talk to the boy. There’s no need for violence,” Professor Paladin said as he pressed a blade against Nigel’s throat.

“You’re the only one inciting violence. The rest of us are protecting ourselves,” Blanka said.

Blanka shot a steely glare at the professor, but didn’t back down.

“Ladies, let me see what the professor wants. If I don’t come out in fifteen minutes, you have my permission to slice and dice Strahinja Vraza as much as you want,” Nigel said.

Professor Paladin pulled the knife away from Nigel’s neck. Blood rolled across his neck.

Eva gave him a mischievous grin and made a show of glancing at her wrist. “I’m counting down, starting now.”