ESCAPE FROM THE GILDED CAGE

The sound of gunfire faded, replaced by the deafening roar of the rushing river. Elena broke through the dense foliage, her clothes soaked in mud and sweat, her feet throbbing inside Arthur’s oversized boots.

There, half-hidden beneath weeping willow branches, was the dilapidated bait house. Behind it, tied to a rotting wooden dock, bobbed a flat-bottomed aluminum skiff.

She raced down the dock, shoved the brass key into the outboard motor's ignition, and pulled the starter cord. The engine sputtered, coughed, and died.

""Come on,"" Elena wept, pulling the cord a second time. ""Please, please work!""

On the third pull, the two-stroke engine roared to life with a buzzing whine. Elena severed the mooring line with a rusted fillet knife left on the dock and threw the throttle forward. The skiff shot out into the cold, churning current just as two black SUVs crested the ridge above the riverbank.

Beams of spotlight instantly tracked the water, illuminating her wake. A sniper rifle round punched clean through the boat's aluminum gunwale, splashing freezing water onto her legs.

Elena dropped low against the bottom of the hull, steering blindly by the distant silhouettes of trees. The river carried her swiftly around a sharp bend, breaking the mercenaries' line of sight.

For hours, the dark river was her only world. She navigated by the stars until the first gray light of dawn broke over the horizon. Up ahead, the towering steel bridges of Riverdale emerged through the morning mist.

She steered the skiff toward an overgrown public boat ramp. Stumbling onto the pavement, clutch of the encrypted thumb drive burning against her chest, Elena walked toward civilization.