The rain was an absolute blur of white noise, turning the dense foliage behind the Ardent estate into a wall of wet, weeping shadows. Franz moved through the treeline like a ghost, his soaked hood pulled low, his boots making no sound against the mud. He had bypassed the primary barricades through the eastern drainage run-off, but as he neared the mansion's rear perimeter wall, the red and blue strobes of a stray patrol vehicle cut through the leaves.
He slipped through the gap in the temporary metal barricades like a shadow condensed from the storm. But the cordon was dense. The moment his boots hit the gravel of the inner path, three tactical officers stepped out from the glare of a nearby spotlight, their rifles instantly snapping up to lock onto his chest.
"Hey! Who the hell are you?" the lead officer barked, his finger tightening on his trigger. "What are you doing here? On the ground! Now!"
