Chapter 5 - The Siege on the Marsh
"How did he find us?!" Leo hissed, backing away from the window, his hand gripping the brass fire poker so tightly his knuckles turned yellow. "This house isn't on any public record!"
"My rental car," I realized instantly, my mind racing. "The second rental car... I paid with my primary credit card at the Savannah agency. Evelyn’s contacts in the local government must have flagged the transaction through the state DMV system!"
"Mom, get upstairs with Lily!" Leo ordered, stepping between me and the front door. "There’s a small crawlspace behind the water heater in the loft! Lock yourselves in!"
"I am not leaving you down here alone with an armed man, Leo!" I said, looking around the kitchen for a weapon.
THUD.
A heavy, deliberate kick slammed against the thick wooden front door, causing the frame to groan under the pressure.
"Mrs. Vance!" Marcus's harsh voice echoed from the porch outside. "I know you're in there! Open the door now, or I blow the hinges off with a breaching charge! You have thirty seconds!"
From the loft upstairs, a small, terrified cry rang out.
"Daddy?!" Lily screamed, her little voice trembling with panic. "Daddy, where are you?!"
Hearing his daughter’s fear shattered whatever hesitation Leo had left. His hazel eyes blazed with a terrifying, primal fury.
"Stay here, Mom," Leo whispered coldly.
Before I could stop him, Leo sprinted toward the back utility porch, grabbed a heavy wooden oars paddle leaning against the wall, and vanished through the side door into the darkness of the wraparound balcony.
"Ten seconds, Mrs. Vance!" Marcus called out, pulling a tactical breaching hammer from his vest.
BOOM.
The glass window beside the front door shattered inward as Marcus swung the hammer, reaching inside to hit the deadbolt latch.
He kicked the door open, stepping over the threshold into the dark living room, his suppressed pistol raised and sweeping the space. "Come out, come out, dead man—"
SWOOSH.
From the shadows behind the entry coat rack, Leo swung the heavy wooden oar with everything he had.
The thick solid wood smashed directly into the side of Marcus’s head with a sickening CRACK.
Marcus let out a muffled grunt, stumbling sideways into the dining table, his gun skittering across the hardwood floor toward the kitchen.
"Mom! The gun!" Leo yelled, lunging forward to tackle the giant man to the ground.
Marcus was twice Leo’s weight and professionally trained, but Leo was fighting for his daughter's life. The two men collided in a fury of elbows, fists, and lunging bodies, knocking over chairs and shattering the pine side tables.
I didn't hesitate. I dropped to my knees, slid across the floor, and grabbed the heavy metallic pistol by its grip.
"Leo! Step back!" I screamed, standing up and racking the slide of the weapon just as my husband had taught me thirty years ago at the firing range.
Marcus managed to push Leo off, rising to his knees, blood pouring from his ear where the oar had struck him. He looked up—and found himself staring directly down the dark cylinder of his own suppressed firearm, held firmly in my steady, two-handed grip.
"Don't move," I said, my voice dropping into a register of terrifying, cold stone. "I am a mother whose son you tried to murder twice. Give me one reason to pull this trigger."
Marcus froze. He looked at my eyes, realized I wasn't shaking, and slowly raised his bloody hands into the air.
"Smart choice," I said. "Leo, get the heavy marine zip-ties from the utility closet."
Two minutes later, Marcus was securely bound to the heavy iron support pillar in the center of the cottage, his wrists and ankles secured with three layers of industrial plastic ties.
Leo stood over him, breathing heavily, a cut on his lip, but standing tall.
I walked over to Marcus, holding the gun in my right hand, and reached into his tactical vest with my left, pulling out his encrypted smartphone.
"Unlocked," I demanded, holding the phone in front of his face. "Or I start shooting your kneecaps."
Marcus spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor, glaring at me with pure hatred, but pushed his thumb against the biometric sensor. The screen flashed open.
I scrolled through his recent text messages.
The last conversation was with a contact saved as VICTORIA STERLING.
VICTORIA STERLING: Is it done? Do you have the girl?
MARCUS: In position at Tybee. Moving in now.
VICTORIA STERLING: Bring them to the docks at Isle of Hope by 2 AM. The yacht is ready. We launch for Nassau at dawn.
I looked at the clock on the wall.
It was 12:45 AM.
I looked at Leo, then back at the phone screen. A brilliant, dangerous plan began to form in my mind.
"She’s waiting for you at Isle of Hope, Marcus," I said softly, turning the phone over in my hand. "She’s on a yacht, ready to flee the country before her fraud is exposed."
"She’ll kill you both," Marcus growled through his teeth. "You have no idea who you're dealing with."
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"No, Marcus," I said, leaning in close until my face was inches from his. "You have no idea who she is dealing with. She took my son's life, she terrorized my granddaughter, and she underestimated his mother."
I turned to Leo. "Go upstairs and get Lily. Pack her bags. We are going to the Isle of Hope."
