Chapter 27 - THE HOSTAGE IN THE HIGH-RISE
The rain had stopped by 7:30 AM, replaced by an ominous, low-hanging gray ceiling of clouds that smothered the Manhattan skyline.
Ethan’s encrypted burner phone buzzed against his chest as he and Vanessa surfaced from an alleyway three blocks from St. Patrick’s Old Cathedral.
Ethan snatched the phone, pressing it to his ear. "Father Thomas?"
The voice on the other end was not the gentle parish priest. It was a harsh, gravelly baritone that chilled Ethan to the marrow of his bones.
"Father Thomas is currently resting on his vestry floor with a fractured collarbone, Mr. Vance," the man said smoothly. "He was surprisingly stubborn for a man of the cloth."
Vanessa, standing beside Ethan, saw the vein in his temple throb violently. She clamped both hands over her mouth, her eyes widening in absolute horror. "Lily..."
"Kane," Ethan growled, instantly recognizing the voice of the mercenary commander who had taken over Marcus's private military network following Marcus's arrest. "If you lay a single finger on my child—"
"Save the cinema dialogue, Ethan," Kane interrupted coldly. "Madame Victoria is exceedingly displeased about the press leak. The FBI is currently raiding Justice Miller’s brownstone in Brooklyn. Victoria’s window to leave the country is closing in forty-five minutes. She is currently on the rooftop helipad of the Vance Tower on 57th Street."
"What do you want?" Ethan demanded, his voice trembling with contained homicidal fury.
"A simple exchange," Kane said. "The original copy of Julian’s affidavit and the Dictaphone. You bring them to the seventy-second floor penthouse yourself. Unarmed. If I see a single police cruiser or SWAT van within five blocks, I drop the little girl off the roof. You have thirty minutes."
The line went dead.
Vanessa fell to her knees on the wet pavement of the alley, sobbing uncontrollably. "No... no, no, no! She has Lily! Ethan, she took our baby!"
Ethan dropped to his knees, grabbing Vanessa by both shoulders, forcing her to look into his blazing eyes.
"Listen to me, Vanessa," Ethan commanded, his voice vibrating with absolute authority. "Look at me! We are not weeping. We are not breaking. We are going to that tower, and we are bringing our daughter home."
"How?" Vanessa cried, her voice ragged. "Kane is a professional killer! He has twenty men with military hardware! If you walk in there unarmed, he will execute you the second you hand over that folder!"
Ethan pulled Vanessa to her feet, his expression hardening into pure granite. "Who said anything about walking in unarmed?"
Ethan led Vanessa to a nearby parking garage beneath an upscale hotel. He approached an executive black Range Rover bearing the private livery of Vance Security Services—a vehicle kept on standby for board members. Ethan reached under the wheel well, retrieved the emergency key fob, and opened the rear cargo tailgate.
Underneath the false floor of the trunk lay an executive tactical kit: two Kevlar vests, tactical combat knives, flash-suppressed HK416 carbines, and four smoke canisters.
Ethan handed Vanessa a Kevlar vest. "Put it on."
Vanessa didn't hesitate. She strapped the heavy ceramic plates across her chest, pulling the Velcro straps tight until she could barely breathe. The frightened maid who had once hidden in the shadows of the estate was gone; in her place stood a mother with nothing left to lose.
"Show me how to shoot that rifle," Vanessa said, her voice turning to ice.
Ethan looked at her, seeing the untamed fire in her eyes. For the first time, he realized that he wasn't going into battle alone.
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He handed her a lightweight carbine, showing her the safety toggle and the red-dot optical sight. "Point the dot at the center of the chest. Squeeze the trigger. Do not hesitate."
"I won't," Vanessa said, chambering a round with a sharp, metallic click. "Let's go get our daughter."
