Chapter 6 - River Ghost
The icy current of the Black River snatched Leo the instant his boots hit the surface. Shackled at the wrists, every kick required supreme effort to keep his nose above the black water. Gunfire tore through the surface upstream, bright muzzle flashes illuminating the canopy as Drake’s men sprayed the current blindly. Leo drifted under an undercut limestone shelf, submerging himself until his lungs screamed for oxygen. When he finally broke the surface hundreds of yards downriver, the wreckage behind him exploded in an orange fireball, lighting the sky. The mercenaries would assume the flames had incinerated him inside the cabin. Leo dragged his shivering body onto the rocky gravel bar. Using a discarded iron wedge from an old railway tie, he wedged the link between his handcuffs and leveraged his body weight until the center pin sheared with a sharp metallic snap. His hands were free, torn and bloody. In his hidden hem, the brass cylinder remained intact. He had twelve miles of dense woods between himself and Toby’s apartment, and dawn was less than two hours away.
