Chapter 4 - The Poisoner's Trail
The rain poured down in relentless sheets as three black armored SUVs tore down the dark country highway toward the industrial docks on the south side of Chicago.
Inside the lead vehicle sat Damen, wearing a heavy black coat over his tactical vest, a heavy custom Colt .45 strapped to his hip.
Beside him sat Atlas, his dark eyes fixed on the rain-slicked window, sensing the lethal tension in the vehicle.
I sat in the second seat behind them, holding Ellie tightly against my chest. Damen had refused to leave us behind at the estate, knowing that with Mrs. Keller vanished and a mole inside the security team, the safest place for his daughter was directly beside him and his ninety-pound beast.
"Where are we going?" I asked over the roar of the engine.
"The old grain silo near Pier 42," Leo answered from the front passenger seat, checking the magazine of his submachine gun. "Anthony tracked Mrs. Keller’s burner phone signal to a warehouse leased by a Moretti front company. She’s waiting there for her payoff and fake passport."
"She won't get either," Damen said coldly, staring out into the dark night.
Twenty minutes later, the convoy pulled into a dark, abandoned industrial yard surrounded by rusted shipping containers and towering metal grain silos. The fog rolling off Lake Michigan was so thick you could barely see ten feet ahead.
The SUVs cut their headlights, gliding to a silent stop behind an overgrown railway embankment.
"Vance, take team two and seal the perimeter," Damen commanded, his voice sharp and precise. "No one leaves that warehouse alive except Keller."
"Boss, you're still weak from the poison," Vance warned, looking back at Damen’s pale face. "Let us handle the breach."
"I walk in first," Damen replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.
He turned back to look at me and Ellie. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a sleek, compact silver pistol, placing it gently into my hands.
"Do you know how to use this, Mara?" Damen asked softly.
I looked at the weapon, my hands trembling, but I nodded. "Point and pull the trigger."
"If anyone other than me or Vance opens this vehicle door," Damen said, his dark eyes locking onto mine with absolute seriousness, "you use every round in that magazine. Do you understand me?"
"I understand," I whispered.
Damen reached out, brushing his thumb across Ellie’s sleeping cheek, before turning to Atlas.
"Atlas," Damen commanded softly, pointing at Ellie. "Guard."
The massive dog let out a quiet, obedient breath and lay down across my feet, his chin resting on my knees, his dark eyes fixed firmly on the vehicle's locked doors.
Damen clicked his seatbelt off, pulled his collar up against the rain, and stepped out into the dark night, followed by six armed enforcers.
I sat in the dark interior of the SUV, holding the cold steel gun in my lap, listening to the rain beating against the bulletproof glass.
Minutes stretched into agonizing eternity. Five minutes. Ten minutes.
Then, the sound of muffled gunfire erupted from inside the distant warehouse—short, controlled bursts followed by the sharp crack of heavy handgun fire.
Ellie stirred in her sleep, whimpering softly. "Mommy? What's that noise?"
"It’s just thunder, baby," I whispered, pulling her closer, resting my hand on Atlas’s broad back to steady my own violent trembling. "Just go back to sleep."
Suddenly, Atlas raised his head sharply. His ears pinned back, his lips peeling back over his yellow fangs as a terrifying, low growl vibrated through his chest.
Click.
The heavy lock of the SUV’s side door clicked open from the outside.
My heart stopped beating.
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The door slid open, revealing a tall figure wrapped in a yellow rain slicker, holding a silenced pistol aimed straight at my chest.
It was Mrs. Keller.
