Chapter 18 - THE SIEGE AT THE WOODS
"They found us," Daniel said, moving instantly to the window and pulling the canvas curtain back by a fraction of an inch.
Outside, in the pale wash of high-intensity LED floodlights mounted on the roof of two black tactical vans, several armed figures in full riot gear were fanned out across the clearing, their assault rifles raised as they moved methodically toward the porch of the warden’s cabin.
At the front of the formation stood Agent Miller, a bullhorn in his right hand, his face twisted into a harsh, ugly sneer as he stepped up onto the wooden steps.
"Victoria! Daniel!" Miller’s amplified voice boomed through the quiet forest, rattling the old windowpanes and sending a flock of startled crows erupting from the pine canopy above. "You’re completely surrounded by federal marshals acting under direct judicial warrant! Turn off the satellite terminal and step outside with your hands visible, or we will breach the structure with non-lethal flashbangs within sixty seconds!"
"They don't have a warrant," I said, my voice dead calm as I watched the progress bar on the satellite terminal tick upward toward the eighty-percent mark. *82%... 85%...* "They’re operating on an illegal extraction order signed by Judge Vance himself before he went into hiding."
"Mom, look!" Lily pointed toward the back window of the cabin, where the small glass pane was suddenly illuminated by a sweeping red laser dot.
"Get down!" Daniel lunged across the room, grabbing Lily and pulling her flat against the floorboards behind the heavy oak table.
A deafening crash shattered the front door as a heavy steel battering ram struck the wood, splintering the frame and knocking the security bar completely out of its iron brackets. The door flew inward, crashing against the stone hearth as a cloud of grey dust and wood splinters filled the room.
Agent Miller stepped through the threshold first, his automatic rifle leveled directly at my chest, followed by three heavily armored men in tactical gear whose faces were hidden behind black gas masks.
"Game's over, Victoria," Miller sneered, stepping forward and kicking the satellite terminal off the table with his heavy combat boot. The unit slammed against the stone hearth, the screen flickering once before going permanently dark. "You really thought you could outrun a system that’s been running this county for forty years?"
I didn't flinch. I kept my eyes locked on Miller’s face, my hand sliding slowly off the edge of the table where I had managed to press the final transmission keystroke just a split second before he kicked the unit away.
The progress bar had hit *100%*.
"You're too late, Miller," I said, a cold smile touching my lips as I stood up slowly from the chair. "The files are already on their way to every news desk from Washington to Sacramento. By tomorrow morning, Marcus Vance won't be giving a concession speech—he’ll be wearing an orange jumpsuit right beside his father."
May you like
Miller’s face froze for a fraction of a second, the arrogant smirk faltering as he realized what I had done. Before he could raise his weapon to strike, the distant sound of helicopter rotor blades began to reverberate through the night air above the pine canopy—not the low, stealthy hum of private security choppers, but the heavy, thunderous roar of federal multi-mission aircraft bearing the distinct insignia of the Department of Justice Inspector General’s Office.
***
