Chapter 9 - River Escape
Marcus stepped from behind the concrete pillar, firing three disciplined shots in rapid succession. The rounds struck the metal grating of the catwalk, sending sparks flying and forcing the descending shooters to scramble for cover.
Frank scrambled into the small patrol skiff, turned the master battery switch, and cranked the ignition. The outboard motor coughed, sputtered, and then roared to life with a low, throaty hum.
“Marcus, jump!” Frank shouted.
Marcus took three rapid strides along the slippery wooden pier, lunging across the gap and landing lightly on the skiff’s aluminum deck. He immediately crouched low, shielding Lily with his broad back as bullets skipped across the water, prying splinters from the wooden pilings.
Frank slammed the throttle forward. The skiff surged into the swift current of the river, leaving a churning white wake behind them. Within seconds, the mist and heavy darkness swallowed them whole, cutting off the line of fire from the bridge.
Lily nestled against Marcus’s chest, her tiny hands clutching his damp collar. “Daddy loud,” she whispered.
“I know, sweetheart. It’s over now. It’s okay,” Marcus murmured, kissing the top of her head until her breathing slowed again.
Behind them, high on the suspension bridge, the flashing red and blue lights remained stationary. Victoria’s private security had failed to contain them at the water’s edge.
Frank steered the skiff along the winding bends of the industrial river basin, keeping the engine running low to avoid attracting attention from the commercial docks.
“Thirty minutes to the harbor district,” Frank said, checking the compass on the dashboard. “If Cross is really at St. Jude’s, we need to move fast. Victoria will realize the church connection the moment she reviews Sophia’s personal diary files.”
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Marcus pulled his phone from a waterproof pocket and powered it on for five seconds. A single text message pinged from an unknown encrypted number:
They know about St. Jude’s. You have twenty minutes.
