Chapter 20 - The Midnight Gate
The world stopped spinning. The air left my lungs completely.
"What did you say?" Graham demanded, dropping to his knees beside us, his face turning an ash-gray color.
"The safe house..." Eleanor choked out, her head rolling back against the cold stone. "Vance... Vance had a duplicate team. If the ledger wasn't delivered by midnight, they were ordered to take the girl. Look at the clock, Graham... look at the clock!"
Graham pulled his phone from his pocket. The digital display read *11:48 PM.*
Twelve minutes.
"Marcus!" Graham shouted, lunging toward the unconscious security guard. He dragged Marcus by the collar, shaking him violently until the man’s eyes fluttered open. "What’s the override code for the safe house perimeter? What’s the frequency?!"
Marcus coughed up blood, a dazed, broken smile spreading across his lips. "You're already too late, Sterling. The perimeter shut down ten minutes ago. It's automated."
Graham threw Marcus back down into the dirt, springing to his feet and grabbing the tactical radio from the floor. "We have to go. Hannah, we have to go right now!"
We helped Eleanor to her feet as best we could. She leaned heavily against my shoulder, groaning in agony with every step, but the adrenaline running through my veins gave me strength I didn't know I possessed. We hauled her through the broken service entrance and into the back of Graham’s SUV.
Graham floored the accelerator. The tires screamed against the pavement as we tore down Elmwood Avenue, our headlights cutting through the blinding rain that had begun to pound against the windshield.
Graham dialed the safe house commander on speakerphone.
The line rang. Once. Twice. Three times.
Then, a harsh click.
"David! David, do you copy?" Graham shouted over the roar of the engine.
Static crackled through the speaker. A low, distorted hum filled the car.
"David, answer me! Is Lily secure? Answer the radio!"
Through the static, the sound of heavy rain pounding on a metal roof came through the line. And then, a small, terrified voice broke through the speaker:
"Dad? Dad, the lights went out."
"Lily!" Graham cried out, his voice cracking with utter terror. "Lily, listen to me, where are David and the guards?"
"They went outside to check the gate," Lily whispered, her voice trembling in the dark. "They haven't come back. Dad... someone is unlocking the front door."
"Lily, hide! Go to the pantry like we practiced! Lock the heavy door—"
Before Graham could finish the sentence, the line went completely dead.
A harsh dial tone buzzed through the speakers.
Graham accelerated, the speedometer hitting ninety miles per hour on the slick, rain-soaked country backroad. Through the sheets of torrential rain, the high stone walls and wrought-iron gates of the safe house appeared half a mile ahead.
The massive iron gate was wide open.
The floodlights were dark.
And parked directly in the center of the driveway, illuminated by our high beams as we rounded the final curve, was a single black SUV with its driver-side door hanging wide open, swinging gently in the wind.
Inside our car, my phone screen suddenly lit up with a notification from the safe house’s smart-lock application.
The digital prompt flashed three words in bright red text:
*MAIN ENTRY UNLOCKED: GUEST ACCESS ACCEPTED.*
Beneath it was a photo captured by the camera at the front door.
A tall man in a soaked charcoal coat was standing in the open doorway, holding out a silver chain from which hung the exact duplicate of the silver flash drive Lily had carried into the ballroom.
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And beside him stood a woman in civilian clothes, her blonde hair cropped short, her face illuminated by the camera’s flash.
It was Vanessa.
