The wind on the mountain top stopped suddenly. It felt like someone had turned off a giant machine. The silence was heavy and scary. June stood very still. Her boots dug into the cold snow. She kept her body in front of the elevator door. She had to protect her son, Leo, who was waiting inside.
The man with the gold key tattoo didn’t look like any soldier June had ever seen. He wore a suit—expensive, sharp. He stood there, hands folded, staring at the burning helicopter like he barely noticed it, like it was just some candle someone forgot to blow out.
“Protocol Zero?” June tried to get the words out, slow and careful. Her voice sounded thin in the cold. She hugged the empty briefcase to her chest, as if it could really protect her. “Who are you? Who do you work for?”
He slipped his pho
