Chapter 7 - The Phantom Sedan

The stolen sedan hummed quietly in the shadow of a brick-lined delivery bay three blocks away from the warehouse.
Alara slipped into the driver’s seat, her hands steadying over the steering wheel as she turned the ignition. The engine sputtered once before catching with a low, throaty purr. In the back seat, the baby carrier had been safely wedged between two heavy duffel bags of emergency supplies Jack had retrieved from a hidden compartment beneath the floorboards. Leo and Stella were quiet, wrapped snugly in extra wool.
Jack slid into the passenger side, his head resting against the headrest, his face pale and slick with a cold sweat. He tossed a heavy, iron-heavy object onto the center console—a burner phone modified with an encrypted tracking override.
"Take the service road toward the waterfront," Jack instructed, keeping his eyes fixed on the rearview mirror. "Vance's primary estate is shielded by municipal surveillance grid overrides, but the old freight elevator behind the dry docks has an analog manual bypass."
"How do you know that?" Alara asked, pulling the car smoothly out of the bay and blending into the sparse, rain-blurred traffic of the industrial district.
"Because my family built those docks," Jack said coldly. "And my father taught me every secret exit he used before Vance decided to rewrite the family tree in blood."
The windshield wipers beat a steady, hypnotic rhythm against the glass as they drove deeper into the industrial heart of the city. The towering cranes of the shipping yards loomed out of the mist like skeletal giants against the bruised night sky.
Alara glanced sideways at him, watching the way the pale neon streetlights washed over his sharp, battered features. "You said your brother. The babies' father?"
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Jack didn't answer immediately. The silence in the car stretched out, thick and heavy, until he finally spoke, his voice dropping into a register so quiet it barely cut over the engine.
"Julian," Jack murmured. "He believed the syndicate could be cleaned from the inside out through corporate reform. He thought spreadsheets and federal audits could beat men who only understood iron and lead. Vance proved him wrong six months ago. Now I'm the only thing standing between these kids and a shallow grave."