Chapter 18 - A Mother’s Darkest Secret
The wreckage of the armored Suburban lay upside down amidst the burning eucalyptus trees at the base of the forty-foot canyon ravine. Smoke billowed into the midnight sky, mixing with the smell of scorched rubber and spilled fuel.
Julian slid down the muddy, rain-slicked embankment on his heels, ignoring the thorns tearing through his clothes and the sharp stones gouging his palms.
"Marcus!" Julian yelled, dropping to his knees beside the crumpled driver’s door.
Marcus was pinned inside, blood streaming down the side of his skull from a deep gash, his arm twisted at an unnatural angle. But his eyes were open, flicking toward the backseat.
"Julian..." Marcus wheezed, spitting blood onto the deployed airbag. "They... they used an EMP blast... killed the engine... and hit the rear doors before we went over..."
Julian tore the rear passenger door open with his bare hands, his heart lodging in his throat.
The child safety seat was empty.
Leo's favorite stuffed yellow dragon lay on the shattered glass of the floorboard, soaked in muddy rainwater. Beside it was a single silver syringe, its plastic cap removed, the plunger fully depressed.
"They took him," Julian breathed, his world collapsing into absolute darkness. "They took my son."
Evelyn slid down the embankment behind him, kneeling beside Marcus to check his pulse. "He has severe concussion and fractured ribs, but he’ll live. Julian... look at the tire tracks climbing out of the ravine service road."
A set of heavy, dual-axle tread marks led up the dirt trail toward the coastal highway, heading north toward Malibu.
"Where would Alistair take him?" Julian asked, his voice chillingly devoid of emotion. He was no longer a panicked father; he had become something far more dangerous—a man who had lost everything and had nothing left to negotiate.
"The private Vance estate on Point Dume," Evelyn said, pulling a military tactical tablet from her kit. "It's built like a fortress into the coastal cliffside. It has a subterranean medical wing and a private deep-water dock capable of housing a submarine. If they load Leo onto an offshore vessel outside international waters, we will never see him again."
"They won't make it to the water," Julian said, his eyes turning to black ice.
He reached into the glove compartment of the wrecked Suburban, pulling out two military-grade automatic rifles, extra magazines, and a crate of breaching charges.
"Julian," Evelyn warned, grabbing his arm. "That compound is guarded by seventy ex-foreign legion mercenaries. You can't just storm it."
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Julian racked the slide of the rifle, the sharp metallic snap echoing through the burning canyon. "I didn't spend four years building a corporate empire just to be polite, Evelyn. Call the private security fleet. Tell them to scramble every helicopter we own. Tonight, the Vance dynasty burns to the ground."
***
