Chapter 7 - THE STASH HOUSE DISCOVERY
“They found us,” Marcus hissed, standing up instantly and drawing his Glock.
“How?” I whispered, my heart skipping a beat.
“The rental car GPS!” Marcus cursed under his breath.
“I told you Vincent had tracking beacons on every fleet vehicle in the state!”
Headlights washed across the front windows, blindingly bright.
Four black SUVs surrounded the cabin, forming an impenetrable wall of steel and tinted glass.
Car doors slammed shut in unison.
Heavy boots crunched loudly against the gravel driveway.
“Claire! Marcus!” Vincent’s voice boomed through a megaphone from the dark yard.
“I know you’re in there!”
“Open the front door right now, or we burn this cabin to the ground with both of you inside!”
Marcus looked at me, his face pale with dread.
“We’re trapped,” Marcus said.
“There’s only one exit, and they’ve got the perimeter locked down tight.”
I walked over to the back bedroom window and pushed it open.
Cold night air rushed in.
Below the window sat a rusted storm cellar door leading beneath the cabin.
“Not quite,” I said, grabbing my canvas bag and the master ledger.
“Get the scanner and the laptop, Marcus.”
“Where does that lead?” Marcus asked, pointing at the cellar door.
“To an old drainage tunnel that empties into the river half a mile down,” I answered, sliding through the window frame.
“My father built this cabin thirty years ago long before Vincent ever bought me diamonds.”
“He taught me how to survive in the woods.”
Bullets suddenly chewed through the front wall of the cabin, showering wood splinters across the kitchen.
May you like
Marcus didn't hesitate.
He grabbed the equipment, shattered the back window glass with his elbow, and dropped down into the dark cellar beside me just as the front door was kicked off its hinges with a deafening crash.
