Chapter 23 - The Convoy on Track Seven
The cold midnight wind whipped through the freight yard as David slammed the door of the heavy-duty armored maintenance truck. The massive diesel engine roared to life with a primal shudder, vibrating through the steel chassis.
Below us, across the maze of rail tracks and towering shipping containers, two pairs of red taillights were racing toward the northern perimeter fence.
"They can't get to the highway directly," David yelled over the deafening whine of the engine as he shoved the transmission into gear. "The bridge construction on track seven forces them down the narrow access road between the storage bays. If we cut through the maintenance bay, we can t-bone them before they reach open tarmac."
I clung to the dashboard, my knuckles aching. In my lap sat the steel box containing the absolute proof of the wedding conspiracy—the financial embezzlement, the forged signatures, the treasonous contracts that my brother and his corrupt cabal had signed with foreign cartels to liquidate our family legacy. It was worth billions. It was worth lifetimes of freedom.
And right now, I would have burned every single sheet of paper to ashes just to hear Leo laugh one more time.
"Hold on!" David yelled.
The truck shattered through a wooden barrier, tires screeching against wet gravel and rail ties. We burst onto track seven just as the lead black SUV navigated the sharp turn beneath the overhead crane.
The driver of the SUV saw us too late.
David didn't brake. He accelerated.
With a bone-rattling crash, our reinforced steel bumper slammed directly into the rear quarter-panel of the second SUV, sending it spinning violently into the concrete foundation of a crane pylon. Metal screamed against metal. Glass exploded into thousands of sparkling diamonds under the harsh yard floodlights.
The lead SUV—the one carrying Leo—screeched to a halt fifty yards ahead. The back door kicked open, and two heavily armed men in tactical gear emerged, using the open doors as barricades.
"Sarah! Stay down!" David ordered, kicking his door open and returning fire with brutal, rhythmic precision.
Through the rear window of the SUV, amidst the smoke and flashing muzzle fire, I caught a glimpse of a small, trembling silhouette.
"Mom!"
The voice was faint, muffled by glass and engine roar, but to me, it sounded louder than thunder.
May you like
"Leo!" I yelled, throwing all caution into the wind.
***
