Chapter 6 - The Traitor's Hand
The underground drainage tunnel was cold, damp, and echoed with the distant rush of storm water. Sophie ran, her hand tightly holding Leo’s as they navigated the slick concrete ledge, while two federal Marshals flanked them with drawn weapons. Her mother was being wheeled ahead in a specialized transport chair by a third agent.
Behind them, the sound of gunfire had ceased, replaced by a terrifying, hollow silence.
"Is my dad coming?" Leo asked, his voice trembling as he stumbled over a loose piece of gravel.
"He's right behind us, Leo," Sophie lied, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. "Your dad doesn't lose."
They reached the heavy steel exit hatch after twenty minutes of breathless movement. Agent Miller, the lead Marshal, used a hydraulic jack to force the rusting metal door open, daylight blinding them as they emerged into a dense thicket of trees in a ravine two miles north of the estate.
A black unmarked van was waiting on the dirt fire road.
"Get them inside! Fast!" Miller ordered, gesturing toward the open side door of the van.
Sophie pushed Leo inside first, then helped her mother aboard. But as she turned to step inside herself, she noticed something wrong. The driver of the van wasn't wearing the standard-issue tactical uniform of the U.S. Marshals Service. He was wearing a grey mechanic's jacket—and on his exposed right wrist was a tattoo of an anchor crossed with a cobra.
It was the same symbol she had seen on the shooter's neck at the courthouse.
"Miller, stop!" Sophie screamed, lunging back out of the van.
Before Miller could react, the driver whipped around with a suppressed weapon and fired twice into Miller's chest. The lead Marshal collapsed onto the dirt road. The second agent drew his weapon, but the side door of the van slammed shut automatically, locking Sophie inside with Leo and her mother, while the engine roared to life.
"Marcus!" Sophie shrieked, hammering her fists against the reinforced glass partition separating the passenger cabin from the driver.
The driver glanced back through the bulletproof window, pulling off his baseball cap to reveal a slicked-back head of grey hair and eyes as cold as a serpent’s. It was Julian Vance himself.
"Quiet down, Mrs. Hale," Vance's voice echoed through the cabin speaker, smooth and devoid of emotion. "You've proven to be a surprisingly resilient piece of leverage. Your husband spent six years trying to build a wall of law around my operation. It's poetic that his brand-new wife will be the key that tears it all down."
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"He will hunt you to the ends of the earth!" Sophie spat, holding a terrified Leo against her chest while her mother wept quietly in the corner seat.
"He won't have to hunt far," Vance replied with a cruel smile. "He's coming to me right now. Because if he doesn't trade those encrypted drives for his precious family within the hour... I’m going to throw you and his boy off the top of the Miller Street Bridge."
