Chapter 14 - The Valley's Law
The lead federal agent lowered his rifle slightly, his eyes taking in the scene: the pool of blood beneath Sarah, the teenage girl desperately applying pressure to the severed graft, and the elderly woman standing defiant amidst the wreckage of her own cellar.
""Medic down here, now!"" the agent shouted up through the trapdoor. ""We have a critical civilian casualty! Female, severe blood loss, chest trauma!""
Within seconds, two tactical paramedics dropped through the opening with heavy trauma bags. They immediately shoved Clara aside, cutting away Sarah's knit sweater to pack the hemorrhaging surgical incision with hemostatic gauze. Sarah let out a faint, gurgling groan as the chemical agents in the gauze began to cauterize the wound, her eyes rolling back beneath fluttering lids.
""She’s in shock, BP is dropping fast,"" one medic barked into his shoulder mic. ""We need a medevac bird on the high school football field immediately!""
Julian’s face suddenly appeared at the edge of the shattered trapdoor above. His arm was secured in a makeshift sling, his face bruised and pale, flanked by two federal agents in business suits. ""Agent Vance! The drive! It’s in her pocket! The old woman has proprietary trade secrets classified under national defense provisions!""
The lead agent turned toward Clara, his hand resting on his sidearm holster. ""Ma'am, step toward me slowly. Keep your hands where I can see them.""
Clara didn't flinch. She slowly reached into the pocket of her cardigan and pulled out the ruggedized hard drive. Julian’s eyes lit up with predatory greed from above.
""That's it!"" Julian yelled down. ""Take it into evidence! That is property of Biosyn Global!""
Before the lead agent could reach for it, a loud, familiar voice echoed from the top of the stairs, accompanied by the heavy, measured tread of cowboy boots on the floorboards.
""Hold your horses right there, agent,"" the voice drawled.
A tall, broad-shouldered man in a tan jacket with a gold star pinned to his breast pushed past Julian, shoving the corporate fixer roughly against the doorframe. It was Sheriff Thomas Campbell. He tipped his hat back, looking down into the cellar with cold, tired eyes.
""Julian, you brought three armed felons across state lines to terrorize Clara Vance's homestead,"" Campbell said, his voice carrying the calm, absolute authority of local law. ""Those two boys out in the driveway have active warrants in three jurisdictions. This is an active crime scene under county jurisdiction.""
The federal agent in the suit stepped forward, holding up a laminated credential. ""Sheriff, this falls under federal jurisdiction. Intellectual property theft of critical defense assets.""
""I don't give a damn about your intellectual property, son,"" Campbell answered, spitting a toothpick onto the floorboards. ""What I care about is an attempted homicide on Route 9, two armed home invaders bleeding on Clara's linoleum, and a broken-down door. Mrs. Vance, are you pressing charges?""
Clara looked up at Campbell, her grip tightening on the hard drive. ""Every single charge you can write, Thomas.""
Julian lunged forward, grabbing Campbell’s lapel. ""You stupid backwoods cop! You have no idea what that drive is worth! There are people in Washington who will destroy your entire life for touching that hardware!""
Campbell didn't even blink. He grabbed Julian’s broken arm, wrenching it backward with a sharp, sickening twist. Julian shrieked in agony, dropping to his knees on the kitchen floor.
""You're under arrest for felony aggravated assault, breaking and entering, and reckless endangerment,"" Campbell said smoothly, slapping a pair of heavy steel cuffs around Julian’s good wrist. ""Take him out to the cruiser.""
Down in the cellar, the paramedics had Sarah strapped to a backboard, hoisting her toward the opening. Maya climbed up behind them, her face streaked with tears, looking back at Clara.
""Go with your mother, Maya,"" Clara said gently. ""Nana will be right behind you.""
The lead federal agent stepped closer to Clara, his expression stern. ""Ma'am, you still have to surrender the drive. It’s evidence in a federal investigation.""
Clara looked down at the small plastic case in her palm. The weight of it felt absurdly light compared to the blood that had been spilled on its account. She looked at the agent, then looked past him toward the dark mouth of the drainage tunnel where water was rushing out into the rainy night.
May you like
""Evidence?"" Clara said softly.
With a sudden, violent movement, Clara turned and hurled the hard drive deep into the drainage tunnel, straight into the churning, muddy torrent of water flowing toward the abandoned mill.
