Chapter 3 - The Counterattack
Skylar dropped her phone and sprinted toward the hotel room window, her adrenaline completely overriding the excruciating pain in her face.
She shoved the external hard drives deep into her purse and threw the heavy strap over her trembling shoulder.
The hotel door finally gave way, flying open with a violent crash that sent wooden splinters scattering across the cheap carpet.
Two massive men dressed in dark tactical gear stepped into the room, their eyes scanning the darkness for their target.
Skylar did not hesitate for a single second as she threw her heavy desk chair directly at the first man's legs.
He stumbled backward, cursing loudly, which gave her the exact three seconds she needed to slip out onto the fire escape.
The cold Miami rain instantly soaked her clothes as she descended the rusted iron stairs as fast as her legs could carry her.
She heard heavy footsteps echoing on the metal grating above her, proving that the men were already in ruthless pursuit.
Skylar jumped the last six feet, landing hard in the muddy alleyway and twisting her ankle with a sharp gasp of pain.
She forced herself to keep running, disappearing into the chaotic crowds of the neon-lit downtown nightlife.
She hailed a passing taxi, throwing a crumpled fifty-dollar bill at the driver and begging him to drive toward the financial district.
She needed to reach the prestigious law firm of Marcus Thorne, a ruthless corporate attorney who owed her a massive professional favor.
Marcus was working late when Skylar burst into his corner office, dripping wet and clutching her bruised, burned face.
He took one look at her injuries and immediately locked his office door, pulling the heavy blinds down over the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Skylar quickly plugged her hard drive into his secure terminal and displayed the massive money-laundering network Derek was running.
Marcus analyzed the complex spreadsheets, his expression growing darker and more horrified with every passing second.
He told her that this particular syndicate was notorious for eliminating loose ends, meaning her life was in imminent, undeniable danger.
Marcus promised to use his high-level connections to place her in a federal witness protection program by dawn.
He picked up his desk phone to call his contact at the FBI, but the line was completely dead.
The entire office building was suddenly plunged into pitch-black darkness as the main power grid was deliberately cut.
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A chillingly familiar notification tone chimed from Skylar’s cell phone in the dark room.
It was a text message from Derek containing a live video feed of her elderly mother tied to a chair in her own kitchen.
