Chapter 11 - The Ambush.
We searched frantically for thirty minutes, navigating the labyrinth of crates and pallets.
Finally, tucked away in a heavily refrigerated corner, we found them.
They were the exact same boxes from my photograph, marked with the ominous skull and crossbones.
"Take pictures of everything," I ordered, pulling a plastic evidence bag from my pocket.
My mother's phone flashed repeatedly in the gloom as I carefully scooped a sample of the gray, foul-smelling powder into the bag.
Suddenly, the overhead industrial lights slammed on, blinding us.
"Well, well, well," a rough voice echoed through the aisles.
Three men stepped out from behind a forklift, and the man in the center was the same one in the gray suit from the courtroom.
He pulled a silenced pistol from his jacket.
"Mr. Hale thought you might be stupid enough to come here," the man sneered.
My mother shoved me behind her, shielding me with her body.
"Let her go," she begged, her voice cracking.
"She's just a child."
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The man laughed, aiming the weapon directly at my mother's chest.
"To the board, she's a liability," he said, placing his finger on the trigger.
