Chapter 11 - The Phantom Call
The mechanical, distorted voice on the other end of the line seemed to freeze the very blood in Laura’s veins. She dropped the black cell phone onto the hardwood floor as if it were a venomous snake. The device clattered against the wooden planks, the screen immediately going dark, leaving a suffocating silence in the hallway. Laura stared at the cardboard box, her mind desperately trying to process how the cartel had managed to plant a burner phone inside her personal belongings before the move.
A surge of primal panic washed over her, but it was quickly replaced by a fierce, maternal adrenaline. She had promised herself that she would never let anyone hurt her daughter again. Laura ran out the front door, sprinting across the sandy dunes toward the shoreline. The salty wind whipped her hair across her face as she scanned the crashing waves.
Emma was paddling her surfboard near the breakwater, laughing as a small wave carried her toward the beach. Laura waved her arms frantically, screaming her daughter's name over the roar of the ocean. Emma saw the absolute terror on her mother's face and immediately abandoned her surfboard in the shallow water, running onto the wet sand.
Laura grabbed Emma by the shoulders, not bothering to explain the terrifying details. She simply told her that they had to leave right this second. Emma did not ask questions; the lingering trauma of her past instantly shifted her into survival mode.
They ran back to the cottage. Laura bypassed their packed bags and simply grabbed her purse, the keys to their SUV, and the black burner phone from the floor. She shoved Emma into the passenger seat and locked the doors, her hands trembling violently as she started the engine.
As they sped away from their picturesque safe haven, Laura dialed the emergency contact number for FBI Regional Director Miller on her personal phone. The line rang twice before the gruff, familiar voice answered.
Laura frantically explained about the black phone and the threatening message. Director Miller swore loudly on the other end of the line. He instructed Laura not to stop the car, not to pack anything, and to immediately drive toward a designated rendezvous point in the dense Oregon mountains, thirty miles east of their current location.
He warned her that if the cartel had planted a phone in her boxes, they likely had a tracking device on her vehicle as well. He promised to have an armed tactical team waiting for them at the mountain pass.
May you like
Laura threw her phone onto the passenger seat and pressed the gas pedal to the floor, her eyes constantly darting to the rearview mirror. The peaceful coastal highway suddenly felt like a deadly trap.
Emma sat quietly in the passenger seat, wrapping a dry towel around her shivering shoulders. She looked at her mother with wide, terrified eyes, realizing that the nightmare they thought they had escaped was starting all over again.
