Chapter 12: The Leverage
Sarah crested the ridge just as the first pale light of dawn began to bleed through the storm. True to Marcus's word, a large mound covered by a white camouflage tarp sat beneath a cluster of massive evergreens.
She ripped the tarp away, revealing a heavy-duty, military-grade snowmobile. She fumbled with the keys Marcus had left in the ignition, her frozen fingers clumsy and slow. Just as the engine roared to life, a dark shape stumbled out of the tree line.
Sarah raised the gun again, but lowered it instantly. It was Marcus. He was clutching his left shoulder, blood seeping through his heavy canvas jacket, but his eyes were sharp and focused.
"You're hit," Sarah cried over the engine.
"Through and through. I’ll live," Marcus grunted, swinging his good leg over the back of the snowmobile. He glanced back down the ridge. "Did you shoot him?"
"In the leg," Sarah said, her voice surprisingly steady. She climbed onto the front seat, securing Zoe securely between her and the handlebars.
"Good girl," Marcus said. "Hit the gas. The extraction point is an old crop-duster airfield twenty miles west."
They tore through the forest, the snowmobile chewing through the deep powder. By the time they reached the abandoned airfield, the storm had finally broken, leaving behind a stark, brilliant blue sky. A small, twin-engine plane was idling on the snowy runway, its propellers kicking up clouds of white dust.
Marcus slid off the snowmobile, grimacing in pain as he clutched his bleeding shoulder. Sarah killed the engine and pulled David’s satellite phone from her pocket.
"I took this from him," she said, handing it to Marcus.
Marcus flipped it open, bypassing the lock screen with a few quick taps—a trick he’d learned overseas. He opened the encrypted messaging app and started scrolling. A slow, dangerous smile spread across his pale face.
"What is it?" Sarah asked, rocking a now-awake Zoe.
"Messages from Eleanor to the security contractor," Marcus read aloud. "'I do not care what happens to the mother or her accomplice. Just secure the child. Dispose of the rest.'" Marcus looked up, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light. "Written conspiracy to commit murder across state lines."
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Sarah looked at the phone, then down at Zoe’s perfect, unblemished face. She had spent a month running, terrified and feeling like prey. But as the freezing wind whipped her chopped, blonde hair around her face, the terror evaporated, replaced by a cold, searing anger.
"We're not just disappearing anymore, Mark," Sarah said quietly. "We're going to destroy them."
