Chapter 4 - The Midnight Escape
The menacing phone call sent a wave of absolute terror crashing through my entire body.
I dropped the burner phone onto the table and rushed to the front window.
I peeked through the heavy curtains and stared out into the dark, quiet street.
Two massive black vans were slowly pulling up to the curb without their headlights on.
I knew I had less than sixty seconds to escape before they breached the doors.
I grabbed the cardboard box containing my grandfather's crucial evidence and ran toward the back of the house.
I quietly unlocked the kitchen door and slipped out into the freezing night air.
I sprinted across the backyard and scrambled over the tall wooden fence just as I heard the front door shatter.
I landed hard in the dirt of the neighboring yard and quickly crawled under a thick row of hedges.
I held my breath and pressed my face against the cold ground as heavy footsteps echoed nearby.
Through the gaps in the branches, I could see three massive men dressed in black tactical gear searching the alleyway.
They were communicating in rapid, angry Russian as they shined their flashlights into the darkness.
I knew they would eventually find my hiding spot if I stayed there much longer.
I pulled out my burner phone and desperately typed a text message to Nora asking for help.
The message failed to deliver because the cellular signal had been completely jammed.
I watched as one of the armed men walked directly past my row of hedges.
He was casually carrying something in his left hand that made my stomach churn with horror.
It was Nora’s distinctive red leather briefcase.
The handle of the briefcase was completely covered in fresh, dark blood.
I realized with absolute certainty that the syndicate had already gotten to my lawyer.
I was completely alone in the world with no money, no allies, and a target on my back.
I waited until the men moved further down the alley before I silently crawled out from the bushes.
I ran into the sprawling darkness of the suburban neighborhood, desperately searching for a place to hide.
I remembered a story my grandfather once told me about his estranged sister, Aunt Martha.
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She lived somewhere in the south side of Chicago and despised my parents with a burning passion.
I realized she was the only person left on earth who might actually be willing to help me.
