Chapter 8 - The Day of Reckoning
"Put the flashlight down, Clara," Thomas said, his voice terrifyingly calm despite the storm raging outside. "Slowly."
I lowered the beam to the floor, my heart slamming wildly against my ribs, but I kept my hand wrapped tightly around the steel crowbar concealed behind my leg.
"You're the inside man," I whispered, realizing the depth of the betrayal. "You helped Scott cover his tracks. You tipped him off."
"Scott was an asset," Thomas said, taking a slow step toward me. "He was brilliant with encryption and layout schematics. We had a good system going until you started asking questions. Now, hand over the case, and maybe we can figure out a way for you to walk out of here."
"He hurt my daughter!" I screamed over the sound of rain hammering the roof. "He tortured a five-year-old child!"
"He kept her safe," Thomas scoffed. "He was building a retirement fund for all of us. You just couldn't leave well enough alone."
He stepped closer, reaching out his left hand to grab the case from the open compartment while keeping his weapon aimed at my chest.
That brief second of distraction was all I needed.
With every ounce of motherly rage, terror, and strength left in my body, I swung the heavy iron crowbar upward with both hands. The solid iron struck his wrist with a sickening crack.
Thomas screamed in pain, dropping the firearm onto the wet floorboards. He lunged at me, his heavy frame knocking me backward into a stack of wooden crates. Pain exploded in my shoulder, but I didn't stop fighting. I kicked wildly, hitting him square in the knee. He staggered back, clutching his broken wrist.
I scrambled across the floor, grabbed the heavy Pelican case in one hand and the dropped gun in the other, turned, and threw myself through the broken side window into the pouring rain.
Behind me, I heard Thomas roaring in anger, but as I reached my car, headlights flared through the trees.
Three police cruisers tore down the dirt road, tires spraying mud as they skidded to a halt, blocking the exit. Detective Miller jumped out, weapon drawn, followed by federal agents in black vests.
"Clara! Down!" Miller shouted.
I hit the mud just as Thomas stumbled out of the boathouse. Seeing himself completely surrounded by federal agents, he dropped to his knees, raising his uninjured hand in the air.
May you like
Miller ran to my side, helping me up from the cold earth. "Are you alright?"
I handed her the waterproof Pelican case, my hands shivering violently from cold and adrenaline. "It’s all here. Everything Scott built. Everything they did."
