Chapter 73: The Hidden Oasis
The high fidelity audio channels mounted along the eastern perimeter wall picked up every wet crunch, every broken wail, and every desperate curse drifting across Crestline Avenue. Through the desktop monitors of the primary command center, the violence sounded immediate, as though four dozen dying men were tearing each other to pieces right outside the heavy acoustic glass of Rowan Mercer’s private quarters. He sat back in his contoured leather seat, resting his chin against his knuckles while watching the chaotic thermal blooms scatter across the dark snowbanks of the municipal drive.
A former investment banker swung an iron curtain rod down onto the skull of a neighbor over a split cedar fence rail, the hollow c***k vibrating through the high frequency hor
