Chapter 10 - Breakout to the Bay
Smoke and plaster dust rolled down the stairwell, carrying the harsh shouting of Syndicate operatives speaking in rapid tactical code. The concussion shook the wine racks, sending three more bottles crashing into the red mire on the floor.
""Move!"" Christian ordered. He hauled Julian to his feet by the collar of his shredded jacket, pushing him toward the narrow archway at the rear of the cellar.
Clara kept her hand firmly planted on Titan's leather harness. The dog was hyper-alert, his head swiveling back toward the smoke, low growls vibrating in his throat. She pulled him forward, navigating the tight, damp subterranean passage that angled steeply downward toward the sound of crashing waves.
Rounds began snapping down the corridor, ricocheting off the limestone with sharp, blinding sparks. The Syndicate wasn't checking corners; they were firing to suppress and kill.
""Down!"" Christian shoved Julian around the final stone bend just as a burst of automatic fire chipped a dinner-plate-sized chunk of rock right where his head had been.
Clara stumbled on the wet slope, but Titan leaned his massive body against her legs, providing an anchor that kept her from sliding into the darkness. ""Good boy,"" she gasped, her knuckles white against his collar.
They burst through a rotting wooden door into the subterranean boathouse. The contrast was shocking—the roar of the Atlantic ocean thundered within the cavernous sea cave, high tide sending dark, foamy swells sloshing against the wooden dock. Moored to the slip was a sleek, matte-black offshore interceptor boat, its dual six-hundred-horsepower engines sitting silent under carbon fiber cowlings.
""Untie the stern lines!"" Christian barked, throwing Julian into the passenger bucket seat where the wounded man slumped in pain.
Clara sprang into action, looping off the heavy marine ropes, while Christian keyed the concealed ignition panel. The high-performance engines turned over with a deep, guttural roar that echoed through the sea cave like caged monsters waking up.
Above them, the door they had just exited splintered open under heavy boot kicks. Two operatives leaned over the balcony, raining fire down onto the fiberglass deck.
Christian slammed the throttles forward. The boat leaped into the churning black water of the cavern, the massive wake slapping the cave walls. A bullet grazed the gunwale, showering Clara with carbon fiber splinters.
As the boat shot out through the mouth of the sea cave into the open, pitch-black waters of the Atlantic, Clara turned back to look at the cliff above.
The Vance mansion was on fire, tongues of orange flame licking the night sky from the shattered grand hall windows.
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""There goes your home,"" Clara shouted over the roar of the engines and the wind.
Christian’s face was illuminated by the green glow of the radar screen. ""That wasn't a home. It was a cage. Now, unlock the harbor manifest, Clara. We have twenty minutes before dock seventy-four goes dark.""
