Chapter 6 - The Interception
The shattering of safety glass at the warehouse's rear loading dock echoed like thunder.
"Sarah!" Marcus roared toward the back office. A tall woman in tactical pants emerged instantly, lifting Lily into her arms and drawing a suppressed sidearm. "Take the drainage escape route under the bay. Take the girl to Safehouse Three in New Jersey. Do not look back!"
"Got her," Sarah said, disappearing down a trapdoor beneath the wooden floorboards. Lily whimpered, but Sarah gently muffled the sound with a soothing whisper.
Elena turned toward the warehouse bay doors. Through the frosted glass, red and blue strobe lights cut through the rain, accompanied by the blinding glare of high-powered spotlights. Julian hadn't just sent security; he had dispatched local precinct units bought and paid for by Vance political contributions.
"They're not here to arrest you, Elena," Marcus muttered, racking the slide of an assault rifle loaded with non-lethal rubber munitions. "They're here to contain you until the dawn flight leaves."
"We go out the front," Elena said coldly, grabbing the keys to an unmarked, reinforced Ford F-250 idling near the ramp. "They won't expect a direct breach."
"I'm driving," Marcus shouted, vaulting into the driver's seat.
Elena climbed into the passenger side, clutching the EMP deployer in her lap. "Hit the gate!"
Marcus stomped on the accelerator. The massive truck’s engine screamed, tires smoking against the concrete before hooking traction. The reinforced steel bumper plowed directly through the warehouse's chain-link gate, bursting into the midnight deluge like a charging battering ram.
Two private black sedans were angled across the alleyway. Marcus didn't brake. The truck smashed through the front quarter-panel of the first sedan, spinning it across the slick cobblestones, and roared onto the avenue.
Behind them, sirens wailed as three pursuit vehicles swung around to chase.
"Highway is two miles north!" Elena shouted over the roaring engine. "If we hit the highway, Julian’s private security will take over jurisdiction from the local cops!"
Marcus swerved through an industrial intersection, drifting the heavy truck around a transport container. "Julian’s convoy leaves the penthouse in twenty minutes. If we're tied up with these dogs, the boys will be on that plane before we even reach Manhattan!"
Elena leaned out the passenger window, the cold rain slashing against her face. She raised the EMP launcher—a compact, shoulder-fired pneumatic tube designed for short-range vehicle disabling.
The lead pursuit SUV accelerated, its bumper inches from their tailgate. Elena tracked the vehicle's engine block through the illuminated reticle, adjusted for the rain drift, and pulled the trigger.
A compressed hiss released the magnetic projectile. It slapped hard against the pursuit car’s radiator grill.
Elena mashed the detonator toggle.
A silent, blinding blue burst of energy discharged across the SUV's chassis. Instantly, its headlights died, its engine seized, and the vehicle spun out of control, slamming into the concrete highway barrier in a shower of sparks. The two trailing vehicles swerved violently to avoid the wreck, crashing into each other in an accordion of twisted metal.
"Target down!" Marcus shouted, turning the truck onto the entrance ramp for the Interstate. "ETA to the George Washington Bridge approach: fourteen minutes!"
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Elena breathed heavily, wiping the rainwater and soot from her face. She looked down at Oliver's handwritten note, clutched in her trembling fist.
"Hold on, boys," she whispered into the rushing dark. "Mommy is coming."
