Chapter 8 - Thermal Lock
""Thermal scan! Down!"" Miller roared, tackling both Liam and Tommy flat onto the rotting floorboards.
The cabin roof erupted into splintered chaos. High-caliber rounds punched through the corrugated tin and cedar shakes, chewing through rafters and sending showers of sharp pine shards raining over them. The deafening crack-crack-crack of suppressed automatic rifles echoed from the perimeter trees.
Vance hadn't needed to track the truck through the roads; they had launched aerial reconnaissance the moment Miller cleared the county line.
""They’re pinning us!"" Tommy shouted over the roar of gunfire, clutching his injured arm against his ribs. ""The back exit leads straight into a rock quarry ravine—there’s no cover!""
Miller looked at Liam. The little boy was curled into a tight ball, his hands clamped over his ears, his teeth chattering uncontrollably from terror, but he wasn't screaming. He was trying to be brave, exactly like his father had taught him. The small U.S. Army patch on his shoulder was covered in plaster dust.
""Tommy, take the boy,"" Miller ordered, drawing three spare magazines from his tactical belt and slamming them onto the floor beside the young officer.
""What are you doing?"" Tommy gasped.
""The F-150 still has half a tank,"" Miller said, eyes burning with grim determination. ""I’m going to run the perimeter line and draw their fire down the logging road. You take Liam through the ravine on foot. Cross the creek bed—the cold water will mask your heat signatures from that damn drone.""
""Miller, that's suicide,"" Tommy protested. ""They have at least six operators out there.""
""They want the evidence, and they want Marcus's bloodline erased,"" Miller said, grabbing Tommy by the collar and pulling him close. ""You get Liam to the Federal Courthouse in the capital. Skip the county, skip the state. You put that photograph and your own breathing body in front of a federal magistrate. Swear to me, Tommy!""
Tommy swallowed hard, looking from Miller to Liam’s terrified, wide hazel eyes. ""I swear on my life.""
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Miller turned to Liam, pulling his silver patrol badge off his chest and pressing it into the boy's tiny, freezing hand. ""Keep this safe for me, soldier. Tell your dad I did my duty.""
Without waiting for an answer, Miller kicked open the front cabin door, firing three rapid rounds into the dark treeline to draw the muzzle flashes, and sprinted toward the truck.
