Chapter 15 - The Final Currency
The flashlight beam plunged through the wooden slats of the boxcar floor, illuminating the rusted steel girders where Thomas, Elena, and Leo hung suspended over the roaring canyon.
""They're down here!"" a voice shouted from the tracks above.
A gloved hand grabbed the iron railing of the catwalk. Before the operative could aim his rifle downward, Thomas swung the suppressed pistol upward and fired twice through the wooden ties. The man screamed, his grip slipping as he tumbled backward onto the rail bed.
""Move! Toward the treeline!"" Thomas roared, helping Elena scramble along the narrow maintenance catwalk toward the western embankment.
Gunfire ripped through the wooden ties above them, raining splinters and sparks into the dark chasm. Thomas kept his body angled over Leo, absorbing the falling debris as they reached the rocky slope at the end of the trestle. They scrambled off the steel frame and tumbled into the dense pine forest just as a spotlight swept across the bridge.
Elena collapsed against the trunk of a massive hemlock tree, her breath coming in ragged gasps. ""We can't outrun them on foot, Thomas. They have vehicles on the access road.""
Thomas looked down at Leo. The child was pale, shivering, but his eyes were wide and remarkably clear. In his small, dirt-caked palm, he still clutched the half-eaten, battered donut.
""We aren't running anymore,"" Thomas said, his voice deadly quiet.
He took the radio that had fallen from the wounded operative on the bridge. He pressed the transmission button.
""Vance,"" Thomas spoke into the microphone.
The static cleared instantly. A smooth, icy voice answered from the other end. ""Tommy. I see you've cost me another team. Hand over the boy, and I'll let Elena live in comfort. Refuse, and I bury all three of you in that canyon.""
""You don't care about the boy, Vance,"" Thomas said, his gaze shifting to the glowing lights of an approaching state police helicopter in the distant sky—a real emergency response summoned by the gunshot reports on the rail line. ""You care about the ledgers. You care about the Denver accounts. Elena didn't leave them in Colorado. She mailed the master keys to my bakery two days ago. They're locked in my flour vault. And the FBI has already been given the combination.""
A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the radio line. Vance's smooth composure cracked into a sharp intake of breath.
""You're bluffing,"" Vance hissed.
""Check the news in five minutes,"" Thomas replied coldly. ""Your empire is already gone. All you have left is murder charges.""
The unmistakable chop of the police helicopter’s rotor blades grew deafening overhead, its powerful high-beam spotlight cutting through the pine canopy, illuminating the mountain pass. Sirens from actual county cruisers began wailing along the highway above the rail spur, pinning Vance's mercenary convoy between the tracks and the state police blockade.
Thomas dropped the radio into the dirt and crushed it beneath his boot.
He knelt in front of Elena and Leo as the blue and white lights swept over their sanctuary. Elena reached out, wrapping her trembling arms around Thomas's neck, burying her face into his uninjured shoulder, weeping tears of profound, overwhelming release.
Leo looked up at Thomas, a tiny, exhausted smile finally breaking across his dirt-stained cheeks. He reached forward and pressed the remaining half of the glazed donut into Thomas's palm.
""Free now?"" the little boy whispered, his hazel eyes shining in the flashing emergency lights.
May you like
Thomas pulled his son tight against his chest, the weight of six years of fear evaporating into the cool night air.
""Free now, Leo,"" Thomas choked out, holding his family as the world closed in to save them. ""You paid the full price."""
