Elena felt the blood drain entirely from her face, the roaring sea below drowning out her panicked gasp. A deafening thrum of rotor blades suddenly shook the bedrock overhead, sending showers of loose gravel and saltwater cascading down onto the slick catwalk.
«You’re lying,» Elena choked out, backing away from the woman until her spine pressed hard against the icy granite cliff. She cradled her abdomen as another agonizing spasm coiled through her lower back. «Marcus took the bullet for me—he just jumped Victoria!»
«He staged the struggle to split you from the real evidence,» the woman said coldly. She unclipped a heavy tactical harness from beneath her apron, slinging a lightweight submachine gun over her shoulder with practiced ease. «My name is Maya. I’m with federal intervention. Arthur Sterling doesn’t just own Julian; he owns half the district court. Marcus was brought back from the dead six months ago for one purpose: to locate the genetic ledger locked inside your unborn child.»
Above them, the deafening chop of the helicopter blades reached a frantic crescendo. Blinding white searchlights cut through the darkness, sweeping across the churned water before locking directly onto the narrow steel gangway.
Maya grabbed Elena’s elbow, dragging her forcibly into the shadowy mouth of a damp service tunnel carved into the rock. «Move, now! If that transport lands, his extraction team will clear this catwalk with tear gas and flashbangs.»
Elena stumbled over the uneven stone, her shoes slick with sea foam. Through the tunnel entrance behind them, a sharp gunshot rang out—followed immediately by a wet, sickening thud.
Elena stopped dead, turning back into the darkness. «Marcus!»
Through the glare of the searchlights framing the tunnel entrance, a tall shadow stepped past Victoria’s slumped body on the grate. Marcus didn’t look wounded. He didn’t look panicked. He wiped a smear of red from his jaw, pulled a silver satellite communicator from his inner coat pocket, and raised it to his ear.
«Target is secured in the lower access tunnel,» Marcus said into the receiver, his voice flat, devoid of the agonizing warmth he had directed at her moments before. «Deploy the containment unit to Level 3. She threw the decoy drive, but the biological carrier is intact.»
Elena’s heart shattered into a thousand jagged pieces. Every touch, every desperate look in his eyes on the catwalk—it had all been a calibrated performance. A calculated lie to keep her docile until his brother’s airborne team arrived.
«I told you,» Maya hissed, yanking Elena deeper into the pitch-black tunnel. «There is no Marcus Sterling anymore. There is only Arthur’s collector.»
They sprinted through the damp, subterranean corridor, the air growing thick with the smell of wet earth and ancient iron. Elena’s breaths came in short, ragged gasps, her hand locked tight around her stomach. The baby kicked violently inside her—a desperate, surging pulse that mirrored her own frantic heart rate.
«Where are we going?» Elena panted, her knees trembling beneath her weight as another wave of pain doubled her over. «I can’t… Maya, I can’t run much further.»
«There’s a private submersible dock four hundred yards ahead,» Maya replied, keeping her weapon pointed down the dim passageway. «If we reach the water before his men seal the blast doors, we can slip past the bay reef.»
Suddenly, a loud metallic groan echoed down the tunnel ahead. Heavy industrial emergency shutters began sliding down from the ceiling, threatening to block the exit.
«Run!» Maya barked.
They threw themselves beneath the descending steel barrier, scraping across the wet concrete just as the massive door slammed shut with a deafening boom, locking out the sound of the storm.
They were inside a vast, cavernous underground dock. Dark water lapped quietly against the concrete reinforced piers. But there was no submersible.
Sitting in the center of the illuminated dock, surrounded by six armed guards in unmarked black uniforms, was a sleek velvet armchair. And sitting in it, holding a small wooden music box that played a hauntingly familiar lullaby, was a girl with dark curly hair.
Elena froze, the air evaporating from her lungs.
The little girl lifted her head. She had Elena’s eyes.
The little girl lifted her head. She had Elena’s eyes.
«Mommy?» the child whispered softly.
Elena took a step forward, tears blinding her vision. «Lilly?»
Before she could take another step, a sharp, metallic click sounded directly behind her ear.
Maya stepped around her, lowering her submachine gun and aiming it directly at Elena’s chest. Maya’s radio clicked open, a cold male voice coming through the speaker.
«Excellent work, Agent Maya,» the voice rasped—the voice of Arthur Sterling. «Secure the mother. The four-year-old has served her purpose.»
On the pier, two guards stepped forward, raising heavy silenced rifles toward the little girl.