Chapter 8 - THE HEIST AT MARINA DOCK
The two-ton Audi burst from the tree line like a guided missile, obliterating the wooden porch railing and slamming directly into the mercenary standing over the breaching charge.
The impact hurled him twenty feet into the rocky ravine. The second gunman spun around, raising his assault rifle, but I kicked open my driver’s side door, leveled my Glock, and fired three controlled rounds through the windshield before he could acquire his target. He collapsed instantly onto the muddy gravel.
I leaped out of the smoking car, rain soaking through my torn, bloody shirt.
The heavy front door of the cabin swung open, and Marcus stepped out, his tactical vest scorched with shrapnel, his rifle held at low ready. Behind him, two of his elite operators secured the perimeter.
"Clear!" Marcus shouted.
"The cellar!" I ran past him, tearing down the wooden basement steps to the reinforced steel bunker door.
I punched in the six-digit master code. The heavy bolts disengaged with a mechanical hiss.
Inside the dimly lit, concrete-walled room, Sarah was huddled in the corner on a cot, shielding Lily’s trembling body with her own. She was holding a heavy iron fire poker, her face streaked with tears and dirt, ready to fight to the death.
When she saw my face, the poker clattered to the concrete floor.
"David!" she cried, throwing her arms around my neck as I fell to my knees beside them.
Lily opened her big, tear-filled eyes, looking up at me through the blanket. "Daddy... I knew you’d come. Grandma said you went to Chicago, but I knew you were coming."
I pulled both of them into my arms, burying my face in Lily’s soft hair, my tears finally breaking through the adrenaline. "I’m here, baby. Daddy’s here. No one is ever going to hurt you again."
Marcus appeared at the bunker doorway, holding a satellite tablet. "David, FBI SWAT just raided Hangar 4 at Westchester Airport. They seized the Gulfstream IV, arrested the entire flight crew, and captured the rogue medical team. They found surgical extraction equipment, forged diplomatic passports, and $10 million in untraceable bearer bonds."
Sarah gasped, holding Lily even tighter.
"What about Julian and Evelyn?" Sarah asked, her voice shaking.
"They’re tied up at our Greenwich house," I said, standing up and helping Sarah to her feet. "The local police and federal marshals are surrounding the estate right now."
"Wait," Marcus said, his brow furrowing as he looked down at his vibrating phone. "David... my perimeter guard at the Greenwich estate just called in. The front door was breached from the outside ten minutes ago."
My blood went cold. "What do you mean breached?"
"A private security extraction unit—Julian’s third contingency cell—hit the house," Marcus said grimly. "They cut the radiator pipes, loaded Julian and Evelyn into an armored suburban, and fled south toward Long Island Sound. Our tracker shows they’re heading toward the private yacht marina in Stamford!"
Julian hadn't planned to rely solely on the airplane. The private jet at Westchester was a high-profile decoy—his real escape route was a high-speed, ocean-going yacht waiting at the marina to slip into international waters!
"Marcus," I said, turning to him with lethal determination. "Take Sarah and Lily to the FBI secure facility in White Plains under full armed escort."
"David, where are you going?" Sarah grabbed my hand in terror.
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"Julian started this eight years ago by staging a death on the water," I said, checking the magazine of my sidearm. "Tonight, I’m putting an end to it on the water."
***
