Chapter 5 - Blood on the Asphalt
""Dad!"" Elena caught Vance as his knees buckled, dragging his heavy frame behind the protective concrete revetment flanking the runway.
""Keep... moving,"" Vance wheezed, his teeth stained with crimson. He clamped his trembling hand over the wound beneath his ribs, blood welling between his fingers. ""The third line of the cypher... you have to open it.""
""I’m not leaving you,"" Elena hissed, ripping open her polo shirt and pressing the fabric hard against the entrance wound. The hangar alarm finally wailed across the base—a rising, mechanical siren that split the humid afternoon air. But she knew the base response team was stationed at the north perimeter; it would take them at least four minutes to reach Hangar 4. Cole’s men would finish them in two.
Tires screeched on the tarmac behind them. An open-topped military Humvee swerved around the corner of the hangar, kicking up gravel, its engine roaring in third gear. At the wheel was Marek, bleeding from a deep graze across his cheekbone, his service rifle bouncing on the passenger seat.
""Get in!"" Marek yelled, slamming on the brakes so hard the vehicle slid sideways, shielding them from the hangar entrance.
Bullets sparked violently off the Humvee’s armored side panels. Elena hoisted her father into the rear cargo bed, vaulting over the tailgate just as Cole’s contractors emerged from the smoke, firing bursts into the vehicle’s retreating rear. Marek floored the throttle, the Humvee surging forward, tearing across the active runway toward the perimeter maintenance gate.
""You came back,"" Elena shouted over the roaring wind, keeping pressure on her father's wound.
""My brother was in that convoy seven years ago,"" Marek shouted back, his knuckles white on the steering wheel as he checked his rearview mirror. ""Task Force Aquila saved his life. I owed your unit a debt. Where are we taking him?""
""He’s losing too much blood. He won't survive a run to the civilian hospital,"" Elena said, her voice shaking as she looked down at Vance. The General's eyes were rolling back, his breath shallow and wet.
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Vance reached up with his bloodied hand, catching Elena’s wrist with surprising strength. He pulled her down toward his lips.
""The vault... beneath the Old Mill in Camden,"" Vance choked out, the words a dying whisper against her ear. ""The ledger key isn't a code, Elena. It’s an algorithm... embedded in the tattoo.""
