Chapter 9 - The Empty Carrier
The abandoned shipping yards were a graveyard of rusted metal and towering steel cranes.
The freezing wind howled off the lake, cutting through Andrew's wet coat like invisible blades.
He walked alone down the desolate concrete pier, holding the silver flash drive tightly in his fist.
He had left Ethan and Sarah hidden a mile away in an armored transport vehicle surrounded by his private mercenaries.
He was not going to trade an innocent boy's life, even to save his own flesh and blood.
At the end of the dock, Richard Vance stood flanked by a dozen heavily armed guards in tactical gear.
Vance held a small, dark infant carrier dangling dangerously close to the edge of the black, churning water.
He smiled wickedly, shouting over the wind for Andrew to toss the drive across the concrete.
Andrew stopped walking, his eyes fixed desperately on the small carrier swinging in the wind.
He demanded to hear his daughter cry before he handed over a single piece of evidence.
Vance laughed, claiming the cold air had simply put the child into a deep sleep.
Andrew reached into his pocket, but instead of the real drive, he tossed a useless, identical decoy onto the wet pavement.
The moment the metal hit the ground, the darkness surrounding the pier exploded into blinding light.
Dozens of laser sights painted Vance and his men as Andrew's hidden tactical team opened fire from the rusted shipping containers.
Chaos erupted as Vance's guards fell to the concrete under a hail of precision sniper fire.
Andrew sprinted straight through the deafening crossfire, ignoring the bullets sparking against the metal around him.
He dove fiercely for the baby carrier just as Vance dropped it toward the freezing lake in a panic.
Andrew caught the plastic handle mere inches from the dark water, scraping his knees brutally against the edge of the dock.
He scrambled backward, shielding the carrier with his body, and frantically tore back the thick wool blanket.
His heart completely stopped in his chest.
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The carrier was entirely empty, holding nothing but a plastic doll wrapped in a pink hospital blanket.
He felt the cold, steel barrel of a pistol press firmly against the back of his head.
