Chapter 7 - Hunted
The storm masked the sound of Conan's footsteps as he sprinted through the underbrush. Cold branches whipped across his face, stinging his skin, but his mind was tuned only to the hunting patterns behind him.
Shouts echoed across the burning cabin's perimeter. Flashes of high-intensity tactical flashlights cut through the mist like light sabers, sweeping wildly between the trunks of the pines.
""He went east! Toward the ridgeline!"" a voice shouted.
Conan paused behind a massive red oak, catching his breath. He had intentionally snapped branches along the eastern path before doubling back south, running parallel to the drainage ditch where Elena had gone. He needed to make sure Miller’s men didn't stumble across her trail.
Suddenly, a beam of light caught his boot.
""Hold it right there!""
A uniformed deputy stepped out from behind a cedar tree twenty paces away, rifle raised to his shoulder.
Conan didn't flinch. In a split second, he dropped flat to the wet forest floor just as a burst of rifle rounds shattered the bark of the oak tree above him. Rolling through the mud, Conan sprang up under the deputy’s guard before the man could re-aim, driving his shoulder hard into the officer’s solar plexus.
The deputy gasped, the air exploding from his lungs as he crashed into the leaf litter. Conan pinned the man’s rifle to the ground with his knee, pressing the cold barrel of his own pistol directly against the deputy's forehead.
""Who ordered this, Davis?"" Conan hissed, recognizing the deputy’s face in the moonlight. ""Was it Miller?""
The young deputy was trembling violently, his eyes bulging in terror. ""Vance... Jesus, Conan, don't shoot! Miller said you went crazy—said you murdered a security guard at the estate and took the baby hostage!""
""Does that look like a hostage situation to you?"" Conan growled, his voice vibrating with suppressed fury. ""Miller killed Julian Vance. I have the video on a flash drive right now. Victoria is covering up a murder, and you’re acting as her hit squad.""
Davis swallowed hard, his skin turning pale under the mud. ""I... I didn't know. Miller told us it was a child rescue protocol from the State Department. He said the woman was a foreign kidnapper.""
""She’s my brother's widow, and that child is Julian’s heir,"" Conan said, easing the pressure of the pistol slightly. ""If you want to spend the rest of your life in federal prison as an accessory to treason and homicide, pull your trigger. Otherwise, hand me the keys to your cruiser parked on the service trail.""
Davis hesitated for only a fraction of a second before reaching down with a trembling hand, unclipping a heavy set of patrol keys from his belt, and dropping them into the mud.
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""It’s parked half a mile down by the timber bridge,"" Davis whispered. ""The radio’s encrypted. Channel three is Miller’s private tactical frequency.""
""You made the right choice, Davis,"" Conan muttered. He snatched the keys, struck the deputy across the jaw with the pistol butt just hard enough to knock him unconscious, and disappeared deeper into the shadows.
