Chapter 5 - The Race Through West Chicago
The black armored Escalade roared through the rain-slicked streets of West Chicago, its emergency strobe lights flashing as it wove through traffic at ninety miles an hour.
In the back seat, Javier held Lucía close against his side, his arm wrapped securely around her small shoulders. Beside them sat Marcus, Arthur’s chief security operative—a former military intelligence agent who was rapidly tracking the signal location of Sofia’s cell phone on a tactical tablet.
"We have her location pinned, Mr. Javier," Marcus said, tapping the glowing red dot on the digital map. "It's an abandoned suburban cottage off 14th Street. Property records show the plot is owned by a shell company affiliated with... Vance Capital."
Javier slammed his fist against the leather armrest. "Victoria bought the property where she forced Sofia to hide, keeping her under constant surveillance for eight years!"
"It gets worse," Marcus added quietly, turning the tablet to show a secondary data stream. "Ten minutes ago, a private charter jet was cleared for departure at Midway Airport, bound for Geneva. The passenger manifest includes two security contractors hired directly by CFO Victoria Vance."
Lucía looked up at Javier, her small lips trembling. "Is my mom in danger?"
Javier looked down at his daughter—his child, whom he had lost eight years of life with. He smoothed her damp pigtails, forcing a warm, reassuring smile to his face despite the agonizing terror in his chest.
"Your mother is the strongest woman in the world, Lucía," Javier promised softly. "And I am never going to let anyone hurt her again. Do you trust me?"
Lucía nodded bravely, holding the felt bunny Leo had returned to her before they left the tower. "I trust you, Daddy."
The word Daddy hung in the quiet interior of the armored vehicle, hitting Javier’s heart like a physical impact. Tears welled in his eyes, but he wiped them away quickly as the SUV made a sharp, screeching turn down a dark, unpaved alleyway.
"We're here," Marcus announced, pulling a heavy tactical flashlight and a sidearm from his shoulder holster. "Sub-unit, establish a perimeter around the back exit. Non-lethal force authorized."
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The cottage was a small, dilapidated single-story home with overgrown ivy creeping up the crumbling brick walls. The front wooden door hung off its hinges, splintered down the center. Rain poured down from the sky, washing over the dark driveway where a white unmarked van sat with its engine idling.
Javier didn't wait for Marcus. He shoved his door open and charged into the pouring rain.
