Chapter 3 - The Black Sedan
The rumble of the sedan’s V8 engine echoed against the low ceiling of the underground garage. Rachel hit the gas, tires screeching against the damp concrete as they burst through the exit gate into the pouring night rain.
In the backseat, Ethan was buckled tightly, hugging his bear, mesmerized by the flashing sirens behind them in the rearview mirror. Two dark SUVs appeared at the garage perimeter, accelerating aggressively to cut off their lane.
""Keep your head down, Ethan!"" Rachel shouted, swerving hard onto the feeder road.
Kane was half-slumped in the passenger seat, tearing open an emergency medical kit he had grabbed from the trunk. His chest was covered in dark bruises and fresh surgical sutures, but his hands remained steady as he pressed gauze against his bleeding puncture wound.
""Take the county route over the ridge,"" Kane ordered, groaning through clenched teeth. ""They have traffic cameras on the Interstate tapped directly into city dispatch.""
""Who are they?"" Rachel demanded, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. ""You said federal asset. Federal agents don't shoot up an intensive care unit!""
""They aren't federal agents anymore,"" Kane said grimly. ""Marcus sold out three years ago to the Calder Syndicate. Daniel was the forensic accountant who tracked forty million dollars of laundered cartel money flowing through government contracts. He built a dead-man's dossier.""
""They told me he crashed into a ravine!"" Rachel’s voice cracked, tears burning her vision. ""I identified dental records!""
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""Fabricated by the coroner on their payroll,"" Kane said quietly. ""Daniel knew that if he ran home to you, Marcus would execute all three of you. He chose exile so you and Ethan could breathe.""
Kane’s phone vibrated violently on the dashboard. An unknown number lit up the screen with a text message: They know about the cabin. Burn the ledger.
