Chapter 10 - The Secret Cellar Behind the Wine Rack
As we carried Chloe out of the underground bunker, SWAT officers began sweeping the rest of the subterranean facility.
Behind a false panel in the bunker’s back wall, Detective Miller discovered Daniel Harris’s master trophy room.
Sitting on stainless steel tables were hundreds of pieces of stolen jewelry, four million dollars in untraceable bearer bonds, and a locked refrigerated vault containing hundreds of vials of regulated pharmaceuticals stolen from the Austin manufacturing plants.
“Sarah, look at this,” Miller called out, pointing his flashlight at a desktop terminal.
On the screen was a live video feed of Gary International Airport.
Daniel Harris was walking up the boarding stairs of a sleek white Gulfstream G650 jet, carrying two heavy aluminum briefcases. Beside him stood three armed private security contractors.
“He’s boarding,” Miller said, pressing his tactical radio. “Airfield units, move in! Do not let that aircraft start its engines!”
Over the radio, static crackled, followed by the sound of gunfire and screaming sirens:
“Command, this is Airfield Team Alpha! The suspect’s private security team has engaged our perimeter! The Gulfstream is initiating taxi roll on Runway 12!”
“They’re taking off!” Miller cursed, sprinting toward the mansion’s exit. “Move, move, move!”
I handed Chloe securely to a waiting team of pediatric paramedics who placed her into an ambulance with high-flow oxygen and warm IV fluids.
“Is she stable, Sarah?” Miller yelled as he jumped into the driver's seat of his interceptor.
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“Her vitals are strong! Mild dehydration and hypothermia, but no acute distress!” I replied, jumping into the passenger seat beside him.
Miller slammed his foot on the accelerator. The police interceptor roared out of the estate driveway, tires screaming as we rocketed toward the highway with our sirens wailing into the night.
