Chapter 7 - The Trap in the Storm
I picked up the tactical radio, pressed the push-to-talk button, and adjusted my voice to sound panicked and exhausted.
“Base, this is Team One,” I breathed heavily into the microphone. “We found the hatch in the garage. The target is trapped inside the bunker. They’re offering to hand over the drive in exchange for safe passage.”
A few seconds of static filled the speaker before Marcus’s voice cut through the air.
“Are you sure it’s the original drive?” Marcus demanded sharply over the radio.
“Affirmative,” I replied, mimicking the mercenary’s cold tone. “David Vance is at the hatch opening. He wants to talk to you directly before he surrenders the media.”
“Idiots,” Marcus scoffed over the frequency. “Hold your positions. I’m coming down to the garage myself. Do not let anyone out.”
I released the radio button and looked at Julian.
“He’s coming into the garage,” I said. “He wants to personally witness our defeat. His arrogance is his weakness.”
“What’s the plan?” Julian asked, checking the magazine on his pistol.
“You and I are going up,” I said. “Evelyn, you stay down here with Lily. Keep the inner security deadbolt engaged. If anything goes wrong, press this red button on the laptop—it will instantly trigger the national media broadcast.”
Evelyn stood up, walked over to me, and placed her hands gently on my face. She looked into my eyes with intense love and regret.
“David,” she whispered. “I spent eight years lying to protect the people I love. Please come back down that ladder alive so I can spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”
I kissed her deeply, holding her close for a long moment. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
Julian and I climbed the steel ladder back up to the garage level. We crept quietly into the shadows near the heavy riding lawnmower and behind a stack of lumber stored against the wall.
Outside, the storm was raging at its peak. Thunder cracked directly overhead, rattling the garage doors.
A moment later, the side door of the garage was kicked open.
Marcus Sterling stepped into the dim garage, flanked by two heavily armed bodyguards in suits. Marcus was wearing an expensive trench coat, holding a leather gloved hand over his head to shield himself from the rain.
“David!” Marcus called out into the dark garage, his voice dripping with condescension. “Come out of your hole! Hand over the drive, and maybe I’ll let you work as an accountant in prison!”
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I stepped out from behind the lumber stack, holding the metallic flash drive visibly in my right hand. I wasn't carrying a weapon in my hands—it was tucked into the small of my back beneath my coat.
“Marcus,” I said calmly, stepping into the center of the garage floor. “You’ve come a long way just to rob an auditor.”
