Chapter 30: The Zero Degree Faceslap
The deep subterranean command center remained warm and still, filled only with the faint aroma of fresh espresso and the quiet murmur of the geothermal circulation pumps. Rowan Mercer rested his porcelain mug on the polished composite desk, watching the exterior camera feeds on his primary monitor. Outside, seventy yards across the snow swept courtyard, the red strobe lights atop the outer pillars cut sharp arcs through the blinding white squall, illuminating four figures trapped in the blizzard against the iron gates.
Rowan reached out, flicked the toggle switch labeled Auxiliary Audio, and leaned toward the goose neck microphone mounted beside the console.
Across the exterior facade of Alderwood Manor, high output acoustic drivers built into the ea
