Chapter 19 - The Bailout Betrayal
Before Daniel could issue a command to breach the lower stairs, the tactical radio on his shoulder gave a sharp, urgent burst of static.
"Detective Miller to Daniel, abort! Do you copy? Abort the perimeter!" Miller’s voice crackled through the speaker, distorted and frantic.
Daniel grabbed the radio, his thumb pressing the mic. "Miller, we are on-site at the crypt. We have Croft and Vogel cornered below."
"Daniel, pull back right now!" Miller shouted over the speaker. "The county courthouse just processed an emergency federal injunction! A sealed appellate order signed by Judge Harrison—Martha Vance was released on medical furlough twenty minutes ago!"
My heart stopped. "What?" I choked out, grabbing Daniel’s arm. "She pushed me off a balcony! She’s facing attempted murder!"
"Her defense attorney, Raymond Sterling, produced an emergency affidavit claiming Martha suffered an acute ischemic stroke in holding," Miller yelled over the howling wind in the transmission. "The judge granted an immediate transfer to a private psychiatric facility under Sterling’s personal bond! But the ambulance never arrived at the hospital, Daniel! She disappeared from custody with Sterling’s private security team ten minutes ago!"
A shadow suddenly severed the beam of light spilling from the crypt's subterranean entrance.
From the bottom of the stairs, a heavy metal canister was hurled upward into the mausoleum’s main chamber. It struck the stone floor, bouncing twice before releasing a blinding, deafening detonation of white light and thunderous percussion.
*BANG!*
A flashbang grenade.
The shockwave threw me violently against the granite wall. My ears rang with an agonizing, high-pitched whine, my vision fractured into blinding white spots. Daniel was knocked flat beside me, his weapon skittering across the marble floor.
Through the haze of smoke and ringing silence, heavy boots pounded up the stone stairs.
A figure in dark tactical gear emerged, carrying an automatic shotgun. Beside him limped Julian Croft, his shoulder wrapped in bloody gauze, his sunken eyes gleaming with vindictive triumph.
"You should have stayed in the hospital bed, little girl," Croft wheezed, leveling the barrel of a pistol straight at my forehead.
May you like
Behind them, climbing gracefully up from the darkness of the crypt, was Raymond Sterling—the family’s chief corporate attorney. He smoothed the lapels of his tailored charcoal overcoat, entirely unbothered by the smoke and ruin.
"Drop your hands, Detective," Sterling said smoothly, glancing down at Daniel, who was struggling to raise his backup weapon from his ankle holster. "Or Miss Vance’s real biological father won't be the only Vance buried in this cemetery tonight."
