Chapter 9 - The Highway Trap
The speedometer on the dashboard climbed past seventy miles per hour as I wrestled the steering wheel around hairpin turns, the rusted chassis groaning in protest against the icy pavement.
Beside me, Callie was curled up in the seat, silent now, her small hands tightly clutching the edge of the dashboard.
"Are we going home, Daddy?" she asked softly, her blue eyes reflecting the flashing red tail-lights of the car.
"We're going somewhere safe," I lied, keeping my eyes locked on the dark ribbon of highway ahead. In truth, I didn't have a home anymore. My house in the city was compromised. Every bank account I owned was likely frozen or monitored by Richard's corporate proxies. The only leverage we had left was the heavy leather ledger sitting on the floorboards beneath Callie’s feet.
Suddenly, a pair of blinding white high-beams flashed ahead of us, cutting across both lanes of the highway.
A large commercial semi-truck was parked completely sideways across the two-lane road, blocking all escape.
"Damn it!" I swore loudly, slamming on the brakes.
The sedan locked up, skidding sideways across the black ice in a terrifying spin toward the guardrail. I wrenched the steering wheel hard into the skid, praying to any god that would listen, and managed to bring the car to a shuddering halt just three feet from a sheer drop into a rocky ravine.
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Behind us, the two black SUVs pulled up, their doors flying open simultaneously as eight armed operatives stepped out into the snow, their weapons raised.
We were trapped between a wall of steel and a firing squad.
