flash
The word Security had barely left Robert Sterling’s lips when the world inside the fiftieth-floor dining room began to glitch. / Chapter 4 / 8

Chapter 4 - THE CHASE IN THE RAIN

"We don't negotiate with terrorists, Robert," Marcus said, standing in the tactical command center of Sterling Financial the next morning. "We track them down and eliminate them."

"He's not a terrorist to me, Marcus. He’s holding my son's life in his hands," Robert said, his face haggard from lack of sleep. "And Ethan is getting worse."

Indeed, Ethan's temperature had begun to climb. The telemetry showed the external signal was fluctuating, causing micro-spasms in his legs.

"We tracked the satellite bounce," Marcus said, pointing to a digital map of Brooklyn. "The signal isn't coming from an automated system. Someone is manually transmitting it from a moving vehicle. They’ve been circling your penthouse."

"They're watching us," Robert realized. "They knew I would try to trace them."

"We've deployed three tactical vans," Marcus said. "If we pin the vehicle, we can capture the transmitter and force them to give us the permanent decrypter. We don't need to go to Geneva."

"No," Robert said. "I'm going with you."

Thirty minutes later, three black SUVs tore through the rainy streets of Brooklyn, pursuing a heavily shielded delivery van that was broadcasting the Lazarus signal. The chase was silent, fast, and dangerous.

"We have them boxed in on Flushing Avenue," the driver of Robert’s SUV called out.

The black SUVs swerved, cut off the delivery van, and forced it onto the sidewalk, crashing into a row of metal trash cans.

Marcus and his team leaped out, weapons drawn. "Step out of the vehicle! Now!"

The door of the van slid open.

Robert pushed past his guards, expecting to see a high-tech setup, a group of armed mercenaries, or the girl.

Instead, the back of the van was empty, save for a single, high-frequency transmitter strapped to a dummy. On the dummy's chest was a tablet.

The tablet screen lit up, showing a live video feed of Ethan’s bedroom back in Tribeca.

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The ambulance siren wailed in the distance, a rising shriek that cut through the rainy night like a knife. I didn't wait for them. I held Arianne against my chest, feeling the terrifyingly erratic rhythm of her pulse, and bolted down the grand mahogany staircase.

The ambulance siren wailed in the distance, a rising shriek that cut thr...

The heavy cabin door hissed shut behind me, sealing in the scent of expensive cologne, manufactured corporate harmony, and betrayal. As I stepped back onto the sun-baked tarmac of the private aviation terminal, the stifling afternoon heat hit me like a physical blow. Behind the thick, tinted glass of the jet's windows, I could see Carter’s silhouette—his jaw set in that familiar, arrogant angle of a man who believed he had just successfully disciplined a disobedient pet.

The heavy cabin door hissed shut behind me, sealing in the scent of expe...

Warren Voss stepped out from the shadow of the mahogany foyer, his silk robe catching the ambient light of the crystal chandelier. His expression carried the lazy, casual irritation of a man whose evening had been mildly inconvenienced by a stray dog, not the towering gravity of a situation where an old farmer stood on his porch holding a notched aluminum bat.

Warren Voss stepped out from the shadow of the mahogany foyer, his silk...

A shadow moved across the screen. A figure in a faded blue hoodie stood over Ethan’s bed.

"You broke the rules, Robert," the voice from the phone echoed through the van’s speakers. "Now, your son pays the price."

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