Chapter 30 - The Child of Winter
The cold inside the cavernous hangar was brutal, but they were alive.
Vance cut the tractor's engine. Clara sat shivering on the flatbed, her baby nestled against her skin, warm and safe under the layers of thermal fleece. She looked up at Mara with eyes full of exhausted gratitude.
"We made it..." Clara whispered, her lips blue from the frost. "Mara... we got out."
Mara stepped down from the tractor, her boots hitting the concrete. Her shoulder was bleeding freely, her breath coming in heavy, ragged plumes of steam. She scanned the dark hangar. At the far end, through the open bay doors, the lights of an idling Gulfstream jet blinked through the blizzard.
"Vance's contact arranged that plane," Mara said, turning back to Clara. "It's chartered under a false diplomatic registry. In ten minutes, you, Lily, and the baby will be at thirty thousand feet, heading for a private clinic in New Zealand. The Board has no reach there."
"And you?" Clara asked, terror creeping back into her voice. "You're coming with us, Mara. You have to."
"Someone has to upload this ledger to the Department of Justice and the international press," Mara said, tapping the titanium drive. "If I don't finish them tonight, they will hunt you to the ends of the earth."
Vance’s radio suddenly crackled with static.
"Vance, come in," a voice said over the frequency. "This is Sergeant Miller at the 1st District. We have a situation."
Vance snatched the mic, his knuckles white. "Miller, report! Is Lily secure? Answer me!"
"The girl is gone, Detective," Miller's voice replied, trembling with sheer panic. "A federal transport team arrived with signed extradition warrants ten minutes ago. We were ordered to surrender her."
Clara’s heart stopped. A silent scream tore from her throat. "Lily... NO!"
Before Vance could speak, the hangar’s massive industrial halogen lights blazed to life simultaneously, blinding them in a glare of harsh white illumination.
From the shadows near the idling Gulfstream, a dozen black tactical SUVs rolled forward, forming an inescapable semicircle around the utility tractor.
Dozens of laser sights painted Mara, Vance, Clara, and the baby.
The rear door of the center SUV opened.
A man stepped out into the freezing hangar, holding a small, shivering girl by the hand. Lily looked up, her face streaked with tears, clutching her little coat.
"Mommy!" Lily cried out, her small voice echoing across the concrete.
"Lily!" Clara shrieked, struggling to stand, but Vance held her back.
The man holding Lily’s hand stepped into the light. He wasn't wearing a tactical uniform. He wore a sodden, frozen designer suit, his face covered in fresh surgical bandages, his eyes burning with cold, demonic triumph.
David.
He hadn't drowned. He hadn't died in the freezing waters of Lake Michigan.
"Did you really think it was that easy, Clara?" David said, his voice smooth, completely devoid of the panic he had shown at the pier. He pulled a silver remote from his pocket and rested a hand on Lily's shoulder.
May you like
Behind him, Alastair Sterling stepped out of the second vehicle, flanked by eight heavily armed Board operatives.
"Drop the case, Captain Bennett," David said with a chilling, predatory smile. "Or my daughter doesn't live to see her little brother's first sunrise."
