Chapter 15 - The Chapel in Vermont
|
Twenty-four hours later, a convoy of three armored SUVs drove through the dense, snow-covered pine forests of northern Vermont.
I sat in the back of the lead vehicle, wrapped in a heavy fur coat, holding the rusted iron key tightly in my gloved hand. Sal sat beside me, his sharp eyes scanning the trees outside.
"Are you sure about this, Victoria?" Sal asked softly. "Your father kept many secrets, even from me."
"He told me to come here, Uncle Sal," I answered, looking out at the endless white landscape. "I need to know why my family had to die."
The convoy pulled up to the ruins of an old 18th-century stone chapel sitting atop a lonely, wind-swept hill. The roof had collapsed decades ago, leaving only moss-covered stone walls standing against the freezing wind.
Sal’s men deployed around the perimeter, securing the grounds with night-vision gear and thermal scanners.
Sal and I stepped inside the ruined chapel, stepping over fallen wooden beams and snow-covered stone tiles. In the center of the altar area sat a heavy iron trapdoor built into the stone floor, marked with the faint engraving of a green jade pendant.
I knelt down, pulled the jade pendant from my neck, and pressed it into the center slot of the trapdoor.
May you like
A heavy, echoing mechanism clicked beneath the floor. Sal and two guards grabbed the iron handle, pulling the heavy door open to reveal a steep flight of stone stairs descending into pitch darkness.
"Stay close," Sal ordered his men, clicking on a high-powered tactical flashlight as we descended into the abyss.
