Chapter 7 - ALLIES AND ASSETS
The two guards lunged forward.
I didn't hesitate. I grabbed a heavy iron wrench sitting on an abandoned workbench beside me and swung it with everything I had. The heavy steel connected solidly with the first guard's collarbone, eliciting a loud crack and a scream of pain as he collapsed to the concrete.
“Emily, run!” I screamed, pushing her toward the maze of wooden crates.
The second guard tackled me to the ground. The impact knocked the wind out of my lungs, sending the wrench clattering across the floor. He pinned my shoulders down, his heavy hands wrapping around my throat, cutting off my air.
“You should have stayed at the altar, lady,” he growled.
Spots of black danced across my vision. I clawed at his face, scratching deep gouges across his cheek, but his grip only tightened. Through the haze of suffocating darkness, I saw Ethan walking calmly toward Emily, who was cornered against a stack of pallets, sobbing hysterically.
“Come to daddy, Emily,” Ethan whispered, reaching for her arm. “Time to go on a nice long plane ride.”
BANG!
A deafening gunshot ripped through the warehouse.
The concrete inches from Ethan’s polished shoes exploded into shards of dust. Ethan jumped back with a violent curse.
“Step away from the child, Ethan!” a thunderous voice roared from the mezzanine catwalk above.
The guard choking me suddenly went limp as a heavy steel baton struck the side of his skull. Marcus Vance landed beside me, wearing a tactical vest over his dress shirt, service weapon drawn and leveled directly at his half-brother's chest. Behind Marcus, half a dozen federal agents in FBI windbreakers flooded the warehouse floor through every side entrance, their assault rifles raised.
“Federal agents! Hands where I can see them!”
The warehouse descended into total chaos. Ethan’s remaining guard surrendered instantly, dropping to his knees with his hands locked behind his head.
Ethan, however, didn't raise his hands. He backed away toward the edge of the loading dock overlooking the churning black waters of Puget Sound.
“Marcus!” Ethan sneered, his handsome face contorted with madness. “You always were the self-righteous bastard! You can't charge me with anything! I’m Emily’s designated legal guardian under Clara’s pre-marital agreement!”
Marcus didn't lower his gun. He stepped over the groaning guard and stood between Ethan and Emily.
“That pre-marital agreement was voided the second Clara walked off that altar, little brother,” Marcus said with icy precision. “And David’s flash drive wasn't just stored in the bank. Clara’s attorney sent a backup cloud clone to my office thirty minutes ago.”
Marcus pulled out a tablet and pressed play.
A crystal-clear audio recording filled the warehouse. It was Margaret’s voice, speaking to a mechanic three years ago:
“The brake lines on David’s sedan must look like natural wear and tear. Ethan will ensure David stays late at the lab tonight. Make sure the impact occurs on the mountain pass.”
Ethan’s face went completely ash-white. The smug arrogance drained from his eyes, leaving behind raw, naked terror.
“She... she recorded that?” Ethan stammered, his voice cracking. “Margaret told me she destroyed those tapes!”
“Margaret kept them as insurance against you, Ethan,” Marcus replied coldly. “Your own mother was ready to feed you to the wolves the moment the feds closed in.”
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Before the agents could slap the cuffs on him, Ethan threw himself backward, diving over the edge of the pier and plunging straight into the icy, roaring current below.
***
