Chapter 3 - The Subterranean Escape
There was absolutely no time for panic or any form of hesitation.
I grabbed Emily by the hand and pulled her rapidly away from the fragile glass windows.
I knew the explosive charges would bring the entire heavy warehouse roof crashing down on top of us.
I quickly scanned the dark, massive industrial space for any structural weaknesses or secondary exits.
I spotted an old, rusted maintenance grate covering a deep subterranean drainage tunnel.
I aggressively used the heavy steel barrel of my service pistol to smash the rusted padlock holding it shut.
The heavy metal grate screeched loudly as I hauled it open with all my remaining physical strength.
The aggressive mercenaries outside began rapidly counting down from ten over a crackling megaphone.
I rapidly lowered Emily down into the dark, damp tunnel just as the countdown reached zero.
A massive, violent shockwave ripped through the warehouse, deafening me completely for several terrifying seconds.
Heavy concrete and twisted metal rained down violently from above, burying the spot where we had just been standing.
I aggressively sealed the heavy iron grate above us and officially activated my tactical flashlight.
The bright beam cut through the thick underground darkness, revealing a narrow path filled with stagnant water.
We waded silently through the freezing muck for over two miles to escape the blast radius.
Emily was shivering uncontrollably, but she fiercely refused to complain or slow me down.
We finally reached a heavy rusted ladder that led up to a deserted alleyway behind a closed diner.
I expertly picked the tough lock of a dusty pickup truck parked near the dumpsters and hotwired the ignition.
We needed to get out of the dangerous city limits before Margaret's private army locked down the perimeter.
As I drove rapidly down the empty backroads, I noticed Emily scratching aggressively at her left shoulder.
I pulled the heavy truck over to the safe side of the road and inspected the bruised skin under her torn dress.
There was a perfectly straight, surgical incision near her fragile collarbone, sealed with fresh medical glue.
Emily cried softly as she remembered Ethan forcing her to take a strange sedative the previous night.
I realized with horrific clarity exactly how Margaret's dangerous men had found our secret location at the warehouse.
The corrupt Prescotts had injected a military-grade GPS tracking microchip directly into my innocent daughter's flesh.
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Before I could formulate a safe plan to remove it, a incredibly bright spotlight suddenly illuminated the truck from directly above.
A heavily armed tactical attack helicopter was hovering directly over our exposed vehicle, aiming a mounted machine gun right at us.
