Chapter 17 - The Ghost of Lake Shore Drive
The red dot of Evelyn’s laser sight danced across Clara’s back, hovering directly over her heart.
Nobody moved. The only sound in the freezing subterranean cavern was the distant, muffled hum of commuter trains overhead and the ragged, shallow breathing of five exhausted people trapped in the center of the tracks.
"Evelyn," Mara said, stepping slowly, deliberately sideways, putting her own torso directly between the red dot and her sister. "Put the rifle down. Montgomery is finished. We left him bleeding in the sewer main. Your whole network is exposed."
"Uncle Julian was a coward who hid behind bank accounts!" Evelyn screamed, her voice cracking with hysterical rage. "He didn't have the stomach to finish what our grandfather started! But I do. This city was built on our family's names. Our blood is in the foundations of every tower on Lake Shore Drive! You think you can take that away from me? You think a pair of trailer-park sisters can tear down the Voss dynasty?"
"Your dynasty is built on stolen children, Evelyn!" Julianne yelled back, her maternal instinct completely overcoming her fear as she held baby Hope and sheltered Lily behind her hips. "You're not royalty! You're a butcher!"
Evelyn’s laser flickered to Julianne’s chest. "Give me the infant. Give me the baby, Julianne, and I might let you and your brat walk out to Michigan Avenue. Refuse... and I'll paint these tracks with your insides."
"Lily," Mara whispered without moving her lips. "The key."
Behind Julianne, little Lily reached into her pocket. She didn't cry. The terror had calcified into something hard and fierce in the little girl's eyes. She pulled out the heavy titanium cylinder and passed it silently into Mara’s open palm behind her back.
Mara felt the cold metal. She felt the micro-mechanical switch on the base.
"You want the prize, Evelyn?" Mara shouted, holding the cylinder high above her head into the glare of the spotlight.
The laser dot instantly jumped from Julianne’s chest to the titanium cylinder in Mara’s hand.
Evelyn sucked in a sharp, greedy breath. "The Blackthorne drive... Montgomery had it the whole time."
"It has the whole roster, Evelyn," Mara called out, taking one slow step toward the base of the iron staircase. "Every offshore account. Every senator on your payroll. Every transaction code. If I press this pressure valve against the rail, the internal lithium cell will ignite, and your entire empire turns to ash in less than three seconds."
"Don't you dare!" Evelyn shrieked, pressing the rifle stock tight against her bruised cheek. "Drop it on the track! Step away!"
"Come down and get it," Mara taunted, her voice echoing with ice-cold confidence. "Or are you only brave when you’re kicking pregnant women on marble floors?"
Evelyn’s aristocratic pride broke her discipline. With a snarling curse, she slung the rifle over her shoulder and drew a compact automatic from her waistband, descending the iron stairs two at a time, her designer boots clattering against the metal rungs.
"Mara, what are you doing?" Clara whispered in horror. "She's going to shoot you!"
"Miller," Mara muttered through gritted teeth, "when I move, take Clara and the girls up the west ramp. Don't look back."
Evelyn reached the bottom landing, ten paces away. The pistol was leveled dead center at Mara’s face. She was trembling with fury, sweat streaking her makeup, looking like a ghost dragged from the depths of Lake Shore Drive.
"Give it to me," Evelyn hissed, holding out her trembling, manicured left hand.
"Here," Mara said softly.
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Mara didn't drop the drive.
She hurled the heavy titanium cylinder with all the velocity of a major-league fastball directly at Evelyn’s face.
