Chapter 12 - The Unspoken Threat
Judge Vance caught the urgency in the marshal's eyes and stepped back to the side rail. ""What is it, Deputy?""
The marshal handed over the red folder, speaking in an urgent undertone that didn't reach the celebrating spectators. ""Sir, it's about Donald. The transport convoy en route to the federal detention facility was ambushed five minutes ago on the interstate bypass.""
Judge Vance’s blood ran cold. ""Ambushed? By whom?""
""A heavily armed tactical unit. Two squad cars were disabled with military-grade spike strips and smoke grenades. No officers were killed, but Donald Vance was extracted from the prisoner transport van. He's in the wind, Your Honor.""
Vance gripped the red folder until the cardboard buckled beneath his knuckles. Donald hadn't been acting solely for insurance money; the logistics firm he protected was a front for the Santos cartel, a ruthless syndicate with vast resources and zero tolerance for loose ends. Donald hadn't just escaped; he had either been rescued by his handlers—or marked for termination before he could cut a plea deal.
Across the courtroom, Mark was lifting Toby into his arms, spinning him around while Hayes packed his briefcases with triumphant smiles. The family believed their nightmare was over.
Judge Vance closed the folder and walked over to Mark. The smile faded from Mark's face as he read the grave concern etched into the judge's weathered brow.
""Mr. Jensen,"" Vance said quietly. ""I need you, your son, and Mr. Hayes to come with me through the private judicial tunnels immediately. Do not go out to the front steps. Do not speak to the reporters.""
""Your Honor? What's happening?"" Mark asked, pulling Toby tighter against his chest.
May you like
""Donald has escaped custody,"" Vance revealed grimly. ""And until we know whether he is fleeing the country or tying up loose ends, neither you nor your boy are safe in this city.""
Toby looked down at the tiny wooden gavel in his hand, feeling the chill of fear return. The shadow that had swallowed their morning had not vanished—it had merely receded into the blinding midday sun.
