Chapter 7 - The Hostage
My blood turned to ice as I stared at the text message.
They had bypassed a former Marine sniper and taken my five-year-old boy.
I immediately dialed Sarah's number, my hands shaking violently.
She answered on the first ring, her voice tight with panic.
"Rachel, I am so sorry," Sarah gasped.
"They came dressed as federal marshals with a tactical team."
"They showed a warrant and said you had been killed in a house fire."
I closed my eyes, fighting back a wave of sheer terror.
"Are you hurt, Sarah?" I asked, forcing my voice to remain calm.
"No, but they took him," she sobbed.
"I have the license plate of their transport van."
She read the numbers to me, and I memorized them instantly.
I hung up the phone and looked down at the three folders in my lap.
They thought they had broken me by taking my child.
They thought I would walk into that courtroom and surrender the evidence to save him.
They vastly underestimated the wrath of a mother trained in military tactics.
I pulled a burner laptop from the storage unit and hacked into the city's traffic camera grid.
I traced the license plate Sarah gave me through the downtown intersections.
The van had not left the city limits.
It was parked in the underground garage of the federal courthouse.
They were keeping him close to ensure I handed over the documents before the morning hearing.
I loaded my sidearm and grabbed the three folders.
I was not going to wait for the sun to come up to fight this battle.
I drove to the courthouse, slipping past the sleeping security guard at the delivery entrance.
I moved through the dimly lit corridors like a ghost, heading for the underground garage.
I found the black transport van parked in a VIP spot.
But as I approached the vehicle, a cold metal barrel was pressed firmly against the back of my head.
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"Drop the gun and the folders, Commander," a familiar voice whispered.
It was Dana Reyes, the CPS investigator.
