Chapter 11 - The Race Against Time
The world seemed to spin violently beneath my feet.
"No," I choked out, my voice cracking. "No, the police are guarding her!"
"Two local cops?" Marcus laughed, a wet, rattling sound. "Against three professionals with suppressed weapons? They're already dead, David. And Clara... sweet little Clara... is on her way to the private airfield right now."
Before he could finish his sentence, Detective Miller rounded the corner, his weapon raised, followed closely by the flashing red and blue lights of four arriving SWAT vans.
"Evans! Step back!" Miller shouted.
Officers tackled Marcus to the ground, wrenching his arms behind his back and snapping zip-ties onto his wrists.
I stumbled backward, my hands shaking so violently I couldn't unlock my phone. "Miller! The apartment! He sent a hit squad to the apartment for Lily!"
Miller’s face drained of color. He lunged for his shoulder radio, keying the channel. "Dispatch, priority red! Check status on the safehouse at 400 Elm Street! Unit 12 and Unit 15, respond immediately!"
Static hissed through the radio.
Ten agonizing seconds passed.
*“Dispatch to Unit 4... we have no response from Elm Street. Officers are not answering their check-in. Sending emergency response teams now.”*
The world collapsed into a blur of raw terror.
I didn't wait for permission. I didn't wait for SWAT. I dove into Miller’s cruiser, slammed the shift into drive, and stomped the gas pedal to the floor. The tires shrieked against the wet pavement, fishtailing wildly before gripping the asphalt and catapulting the car out of the rail yard.
Rain lashed against the windshield in violent sheets. Sirens wailing, I ran red light after red light, tears streaming down my face, praying to every deity I had ever ignored.
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*Please, God. Keep her safe. Don't let them take her. Let me get there in time.*
***