Chapter 8 - The Corrupt Badge
I held my breath in the terrifying darkness, completely unsure of who was standing on the other side of the glass.
The heavy steel deadbolts of the vault door suddenly clicked open, and the door swung outward with a loud groan.
Luka stood in the doorway, bleeding heavily from a deep knife wound in his side, but holding my father safely by the arm.
"We have to move right now, the backup generators will boot up in less than sixty seconds," Luka grunted in pain.
I practically tackled my father in a desperate, tearful embrace, completely overwhelmed by the miracle of his survival.
We rushed blindly toward the restricted service elevator, leaving David entirely unconscious on the dark laboratory floor.
Luka hotwired the elevator panel, sending us rapidly back up to the underground loading dock.
We burst out of the glass skyscraper and sprinted aggressively toward our armored SUV waiting in the shadows.
But the dark alleyway was suddenly illuminated by the blinding red and blue flashing lights of a dozen police cruisers.
We were completely surrounded by heavily armed SWAT officers with their tactical rifles aimed directly at our chests.
"Drop your weapons and place your hands on your heads!" a booming voice commanded through a police megaphone.
The corrupt police commissioner, a man deeply in David's financial pocket, stepped confidently out of an unmarked vehicle.
He was entirely intending to arrest us and deliver the baby right back to the syndicate without any official paperwork.
Luka slowly lowered his empty weapon to the wet pavement, his body swaying heavily from severe blood loss.
I refused to surrender my child to a corrupt official who was willing to murder innocent people for a paycheck.
I remembered the silver pocket watch my father had hidden inside Luka's vehicle earlier that evening.
I reached discreetly into my jacket and pressed a tiny, hidden mechanical button on the side of the antique timepiece.
The back of the watch popped open, revealing a tiny, glowing digital microchip nestled safely inside the gears.
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I plugged the microchip directly into my stolen cell phone and realized exactly what my father had actually given me.
It was not just a symbol of hope, it was a weapon.
