Chapter 6 - A Desperate Trap
Two guards grabbed Sarah by the arms and dragged her to the midpoint between the vehicles. Marcus stood beside them, his eyes fixed on me like a hawk watching prey.
"Step back to your car, Vance," Marcus commanded. "Leave the phone on the hood."
"Sarah walks to my side first," I insisted, not moving an inch. "We do this simultaneously."
Marcus sighed, an expression of profound irritation crossing his face. "You really are a protective father, aren't you? Fine."
He signaled the guards. They released Sarah's arms and shoved her forward. She stumbled over the loose gravel, her breath coming in ragged gasps, and ran straight into my arms.
I caught her, pulling her close against my chest. Her body was shaking violently, cold to the touch.
"David... oh God, David..." she sobbed, burying her face into my collar. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
"I've got you," I whispered in her ear, holding her tight. "Are you hurt?"
"Just... bruised," she managed to say. "They... they didn't get the master key."
"Good," I muttered.
I pulled a small utility knife from my pocket and sliced through the zip-ties binding her wrists. As the plastic snapped, I leaned close to her ear. "When I tell you to drop, get under the SUV."
Her eyes shot to mine in sudden terror. "David, what—"
"Marcus," I called out, turning back to the gray-haired man. "The physical drives are in the trunk of my car. I'm going to unlock it now."
I reached into my pocket, but I didn't pull out a car key. I pulled out a small remote detonator I had rigged thirty minutes prior using the hospital's emergency flare kit and a canister of industrial gasoline from my garage, which I had strapped beneath the undercarriage of my SUV before driving here.
Marcus saw the small metal box in my hand and his eyes went wide. "Take them!" he roared.
"DROP!" I shouted.
I slammed Sarah down onto the gravel beneath the structural frame of my vehicle and hit the red button on the remote.
A deafening BANG shattered the night as the flare ignited the gasoline canister attached to the rear bumper. A blinding wall of orange flame and thick black smoke erupted into the air, creating an instantaneous shockwave that threw Marcus's men off balance.
Gravel flew through the air like shrapnel. Screams and gunfire instantly erupted through the smoke, but the blinding flash made accurate shooting impossible for Marcus's team.
I grabbed Sarah by her jacket harness and pulled her through the thick smoke toward the edge of the pier.
"This way!" I yelled over the roar of the fire.
"David! They have heavy weapons!" she screamed as bullets whistled through the fog above our heads, punching holes through the metal shipping containers nearby.
We reached the edge of the concrete dock. Below us, ten feet down, sat the black, churning water of the river. Moored to the pilings was a small, rusted maintenance motorboat I had spotted on satellite maps before leaving the hospital.
"Jump!" I ordered.
We leapt off the dock, falling through the darkness, and hit the wooden deck of the boat with a heavy thud.
Above us, heavy footsteps pounded against the concrete. "Find them!" Marcus's voice echoed through the smoke. "Search the water!"
I scrambled to the stern of the boat, yanked the pull-cord of the outboard motor, and prayed to whatever God was watching over us.
The engine sputtered once, choked on damp air, and then roared to life.
I slammed the throttle forward. The boat surged out into the open river, cutting through the dense fog just as a hail of gunfire struck the water behind us, splashing white foam into the dark night.
Sarah crawled to the stern and grabbed my leg, looking back at the burning dock fading into the mist.
"Did we... did we lose them?" she panted, her face streaked with soot and tears.
"For now," I said, my hands locked onto the steering tiller, my eyes fixed on the distant lights of the city skyline. "Now we go get our children."
Sarah looked up at me, the tears streaming down her face unchecked. "David... the kids... are they really okay? Tell me the truth. Please."
I looked down at her, the anger that had sustained me through the night softening just a fraction at the sight of her broken spirit.
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"They were starving, Sarah," I said, my voice heavy with the grim truth. "Lily dragged Tommy across the living room floor because she thought he was dying. She told me she tried to keep him safe."
Sarah collapsed onto the deck of the boat, her face buried in her hands, her sobs echoing across the dark, open water.
