Chapter 3 - THE FATHER UNDER SUSPICION
"Pull over," Cole said.
Emily kept driving.
"I said pull over."
"And I heard you," she snapped. "But I am not stopping under a city full of snipers because a toddler said two words."
The Honda raced beneath downtown Chicago, swallowed by the concrete maze of Lower Wacker. Emergency lights flashed above abandoned cars. Every exit ramp seemed blocked, every tunnel watched. Adrian sat in the back seat with his hands visible, as though the men who had served beside him might suddenly decide he was the enemy.
Emily hated how possible that felt.
Ethan had curled into her side. His eyes were open, fixed on the blood darkening Adrian's sleeve.
"Ethan," Adrian said carefully, "what does red man mean?"
The boy closed his eyes.
"Do not question him like that," Emily said.
"He may have seen the attack."
"He is a baby."
"He is the only witness we have."
Adrian's voice broke on the last word. Emily saw it in the mirror: not guilt, but grief. It did not absolve him. Dangerous men could grieve. But it made him harder to hate.
He removed his bloodstained jacket and placed it on the floor.
"This blood belongs to Daniel Pierce," he said. "Ethan's driver. I found him dying beside the false convoy."
Cole frowned. "Pierce was not assigned by Command."
"Then Command lied."
Mason's phone flickered with a single bar of service. A coded message appeared, then vanished.
SAFE SITE DELTA. PROCEED IMMEDIATELY.
"Trap," Cole said.
"Probably," Adrian answered.
Emily took a hard right into a service lane.
"Where are you going?" Mason asked.
"Somewhere no one official would choose."
Years earlier, she had photographed a protest that turned violent near the old Tribune printing annex. Police blocked the streets, tear gas filled the alleys, and a maintenance worker had shown her a hidden passage beneath the river. She had never forgotten it. Photographers survived by remembering exits.
Two black SUVs appeared behind them.
"They found us," Mason said.
"No," Emily replied. "They guessed where frightened people run."
She swerved between concrete columns. The SUVs followed, too fast for the narrow lane. Mason leaned from the window and fired at a tire. The lead SUV wobbled but kept coming.
Ahead, a garbage truck blocked the road.
"Dead end," Cole said.
Emily spotted a ramp marked AUTHORIZED VEHICLES ONLY.
"Only if you are polite."
She drove up the ramp, crashed through a security gate, and burst into the basement of an office tower. Workers scattered. The first SUV smashed through behind them. Emily aimed for a freight elevator whose steel doors were sliding shut.
"You are not serious," Adrian said.
"Supportive comments only."
Mason fired at the control panel. The doors jerked open. Emily squeezed the battered Honda inside with inches to spare. Bullets struck the frame as the doors closed.
The elevator groaned upward under the weight of a vehicle it had never been meant to carry.
Then it stopped between floors.
The lights flickered.
Above them, the roof hatch rattled.
Someone was climbing down the shaft.
Emily opened her camera bag, removed a powerful flash unit, and crawled through the sunroof onto the hood. When the hatch above opened and a masked face appeared, she triggered the flash at full strength.
The attacker screamed, blinded, and fell past the car into the darkness.
Mason stared at her. "Remind me never to annoy a photographer."
The elevator lurched and resumed moving.
When the doors opened into the lobby, a dozen office workers watched a bullet-riddled Honda roll across polished marble.
Emily drove straight through the glass entrance.
Outside, police lines surrounded the plaza. Officers raised rifles. Adrian lowered the window and displayed his credentials.
"Federal protective detail! Hold your fire!"
For one second, the officers hesitated.
Then their commander spoke into his radio.
"Target vehicle confirmed."
Red laser dots spread across Emily's windshield.
May you like
The police were not there to rescue them.
They had been ordered to kill them.
