Chapter 7 - Ambush at Berth 14
""They found us!"" Clara hissed, drawing a compact semi-automatic pistol from beneath her trench coat. The security monitors mounted near the warehouse door flickered, displaying four black tactical SUVs barricading the exit. Men in black tactical gear with suppressed rifles were spilling out into the torrential rain.
""How?"" Elena gasped, grabbing Maya and pulling the girl behind the heavy concrete support pillar. ""I destroyed my phone!""
""The tracking device wasn't in your phone,"" Gabriel said coldly, glancing down at Elena’s hemline. ""Look at the lining of your gown.""
Elena looked down in horror. Stitched into the hem of the crimson satin gown—a gift Julian had insisted she wear to their anniversary dinner tonight—was a tiny, flexible micro-transponder the size of a coin. He had tagged her like cattle before she had even walked out of the bedroom.
With a swift, violent jerk, Elena ripped the silk lining out of her gown, stomping the tiny chip into dust against the concrete.
""Take Maya through the rear service tunnel beneath the pier,"" Gabriel commanded, drawing his own sidearm with practiced ease. ""There is a wooden launch moored at Berth 14. Clara has the ignition codes. I will hold them at the gate.""
""Gabriel, there are ten of them!"" Elena protested, her eyes wide. ""They will kill you!""
Gabriel offered her a grim, ghost of a smile. ""They couldn't kill me in prison, Elena. They won't kill me in a rainstorm. Go! Protect your daughter!""
The sound of shattering glass tore through the rear entryway. Bullets whizzed through the air, striking metal drums and concrete walls with concussive snaps. Maya woke with a terrified scream, clinging to Elena’s chest like a limpet.
Elena didn't look back. Running in bare feet across the rough concrete, ignoring the splinters and cold dampness, she followed Clara into a narrow, dimly lit subterranean tunnel running beneath the docks. The muffled sound of gunfire roared above them, punctuated by the metallic clatter of falling scaffolding.
They reached the end of the tunnel where an iron ladder descended toward the water. Below, tossing violently against the wooden pilings in the surging ocean tide, sat a sleek gray speedboat.
Clara scrambled down first, steadying the vessel against the swells. ""Hand her down, Elena! Hurry!""
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Elena carefully lowered Maya into Clara’s waiting arms, then stepped onto the ladder herself. But just as Elena’s feet touched the deck of the boat, a shadow fell over the opening above.
Julian’s head of security, Marcus, stood at the top of the ladder, rain plastering his hair to his skull. His rifle was raised, aimed dead center at Elena’s heart. ""Step away from the helm, ladies. Mr. Vance wants the girl returned alive. You, Elena, are completely optional.""
