A clearing stretched out in a remote patch of land, its dirt surface ringed by thick, towering trees. The afternoon sun was hot but the trees around made the heat bearable for the figures who stood waiting. This place had been chosen on purpose, isolated and perfect for things that needed to be kept secret.
Patrick stood in the center of it all, his hands clasped behind his back, his face an unreadable mask of control. High overhead, the thunderous roar of an approaching helicopter shattered the quiet.
The wind whipped violently, sending loose dirt and dried leaves into a swirling frenzy as the chopper descended. The trees shuddered under the force, with its branches bending as though bowing in submission.
Patrick's men held their ground, their long coats flaring from the downdraft as they signaled the pilot for a smooth landing. The sound was deafening, the rhythmic beating of the rotor blades drowning out everything else.
