Chapter 4 - The Canvas Backpack
"Get to the cafeteria," I roared at Vance. "If anyone touches that little girl, I want them dead."
Vance drew his weapon and sprinted down the hall.
I turned back to Sarah. I pulled my phone out, dialing the number for the most exclusive private medical extraction team on the West Coast. "I am moving you, Sarah. Right now."
"David, wait," she gasped, gripping my sleeve with surprising strength. "The evidence. The ghost ledger. Marcus's men are here for it."
"Where is it?"
"Lily's backpack," she breathed. "The one with the frayed straps. I sewed a micro-SD card into the lining of the bottom right pocket. It contains everything. The bank transfers, the treason, Thomas's final video diary. You have to keep it safe."
Down the hall, the sharp crack of suppressed gunfire echoed.
My heart stopped.
I ran to the door, pulling a tactical pen from my suit pocket—the only weapon I had on me. Down the corridor, the elevator doors pinged open. Two men in dark suits stepped out, guns drawn, heading straight for Room 412.
I didn't hesitate. I threw myself into the hallway, driving the titanium point of the pen into the first man’s throat. He collapsed, gurgling. The second man raised his weapon, but before he could fire, Vance appeared at the end of the hall, holding Lily tightly against his chest with one arm, his sidearm raised in the other.
Vance fired twice. The second hitman dropped to the linoleum floor.
Lily was screaming, burying her face in Vance's tactical vest.
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"We need to move!" Vance shouted. "The extraction chopper is touching down on the roof in two minutes!"
I ran into the room, scooped Sarah’s frail body out of the hospital bed, IV bags and all, and carried her into the hallway. "You're going home, Sarah," I whispered. "I promise."
