Chapter 5 - The Shadow in the Parking Garage
It was 8:30 p.m. by the time I finally wrapped up my first day as CEO of Vale Meridian. The executive offices were quiet, bathed in the soft amber glow of desk lamps and the distant neon lights of the Chicago skyline sparkling through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
I packed my leather briefcase, slipped my coat over my shoulders, and took the private executive elevator down to the subterranean parking garage.
The garage was dim, echoing with the low, monotonous hum of fluorescent overhead tubes and the dripping of an overhead water pipe. My personal SUV sat parked in my designated spot near the exit pillar.
As I crossed the concrete floor, my heels clicking sharply against the ground, I noticed something odd.
The parking lights of my SUV weren't blinking, but the driver’s side mirror was folded inward—something I never left it like that.
I stopped walking, my military instincts flaring instantly. I dropped my briefcase to the concrete, my hand sliding into my coat pocket to wrap around my heavy steel key ring, using the metal prongs as an improvised defense.
“Who’s there?” I called out, my voice echoing off the concrete pillars.
Silence answered me, save for the steady drip of water.
May you like
Then, a pair of heavy headlights flickered on twenty yards away in the dark service lane, blinding me with a harsh, high-intensity glare.
Before I could dive behind a concrete column, a sleek black sedan roared out from the shadows, its tires screeching against the floor as it accelerated straight toward me at terrifying speed.
