Chapter 4 - The Art of the Escape
Marcus stepped out of the SUV, his movements precise and lethal. He held a suppressed pistol, his face devoid of the professional deference he had worn for years.
"Ms. Sterling," Marcus called out, his voice echoing in the vast, hollow space. "Do you have any idea how much work it took to keep you comfortable for fifteen years? You had the house, the power, the respect. Why throw it away for a mistake you were supposed to have forgotten?"
"He wasn't a mistake, Marcus!" Evelyn shouted back, her hand fumbling for the small pistol she had retrieved from her mansion safe. She looked at Vane, who was already typing furiously on a ruggedized laptop. "How much longer?"
"Data’s heavy," Vane hissed. "Two minutes!"
"I don't have two minutes!"
Evelyn didn't wait. She knew this shipyard—she had financed the very upgrades that now stood as their cover. She grabbed a heavy-duty bolt cutter from a nearby workbench and hurled it into a junction box at the base of a crane. Sparks showered the yard as the massive machine groaned and began to swing, blocking Marcus’s line of sight.
"Leo, run!" she screamed.
The boy burst from the wrecked sedan, sprinting toward a drainage tunnel Vane had pointed out. Evelyn provided cover fire, not trying to hit Marcus, but forcing him to take cover. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and cordite.
"Vane, get the data out!" she yelled, retreating toward the tunnel.
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"It’s at 80 percent!"
Marcus’s men were closing in. Evelyn pulled a second, smaller device from her pocket—a remote detonator for the sedan. As Marcus reached the car, she pressed the button. The explosion was deafening, a fireball lighting up the fog. In the confusion, she dove into the tunnel after Leo.
