Chapter 14 - The Underground Escape
“Don't listen to him, Judge!” I shouted from behind the mahogany bookcase, my finger resting lightly on the trigger of my pistol. “They’re bluffing! If they blow the foundation, they lose the ledger files forever!”
“They aren't bluffing, Emily,” Ethan whispered, crawling over to my position from the hallway. He pulled a small digital scanning device from his tactical vest. “I’m picking up a high-frequency telemetry signal from the basement foundation. They’ve got shaped C4 charges strapped to the main support beams. If we stay here, we’re dead.”
“Then we don't stay here,” I replied, my eyes scanning the room. “Look at the old brick hearth behind Sterling. There’s an auxiliary coal chute leading out to the alley.”
Ethan nodded sharply. “Provide covering fire. I’ll clear the exit.”
I raised my Sig Sauer and laid down a rapid, accurate stream of suppressive fire toward David Sterling and his shield-bearing guards, forcing them to duck behind the heavy oak dining table.
“Judge, fall back!” I yelled over the gunfire.
Judge Harrison fired his shotgun one last time into the ceiling above the mercenaries, sending a shower of plaster crashing down onto their heads, before retreating backward toward the fireplace hearth where Ethan was already kicking away the rusted iron grate of the coal chute.
“Go, go, go!” Ethan yelled, shoving Judge Harrison into the dark, narrow brick shaft just as Sterling’s men recovered and opened fire with full automatic fury.
Bullets chewed through the wood of the mahogany bookcase as I scrambled backward, diving headfirst into the dark, soot-filled coal chute just as a massive explosion rocked the front of the brownstone.
The shockwave from the breaching charge blew out the remaining windows and sent a tidal wave of heat and smoke rushing through the hallways. I slid rapidly down the steep, sloping brick tube, scraping my elbows against the rough masonry, until I burst out into the freezing, wet air of the alleyway, landing hard in a pile of dirty slush.
Ethan and Judge Harrison were already waiting for me, pulling me to my feet as the distant wail of police sirens began to echo down the Chicago streets.
“Are you hit?” Ethan asked, frantically checking my arms and shoulders for injuries.
“I’m fine,” I gasped, wiping soot from my face as I looked back at the brownstone. Flames were already licking out of the shattered second-story windows. “My dad! The basement vault!”
Before Ethan could answer, the heavy iron side door of the alleyway burst open, and my father stepped out into the freezing rain, coughing from the smoke, flanked by two local police officers who looked entirely bewildered by the chaos.
“Dad!” I cried out, sprinting over to him and throwing my arms around his waist.
“I’m okay, Em,” my father coughed, patting my back. “When the foundation charges went off, the emergency pneumatic release on the vault door triggered automatically. These officers were responding to the 911 call from the neighbors.”
May you like
Judge Harrison walked over, his face grim, his trench coat singed and stained with soot. He pulled a heavy leather briefcase tightly under his arm—the civil petition and the master ledger files were still safe.
“They burned our sanctuary,” Judge Harrison said, staring at the burning brownstone. “Which means we can no longer operate in the shadows of Chicago. We have to take this fight directly to their front door.”
