Chapter 6 - Blood on the Gravel
The old Henrico County gravel quarry looked like an open wound in the earth. Surrounded by dense pine forests and rusted chain-link fencing, the massive pit was filled with stagnant, oil-slicked rainwater that reflected the bruised gray clouds of the pre-dawn sky.
Two vehicles sat idling near the main crushing plant: a black sedan identical to the one Emily had reported parked outside their house three weeks ago, and a county patrol cruiser.
Inside the rusted corrugated-metal shed beside the crusher, two men in civilian jackets were smoking cigarettes while standing over a wooden chair.
Bound to the chair with industrial zip-ties was a young woman with dark hair and a pale, terror-stricken face—Sarah Lin. Her clothes were torn, and a dark bruise bloomed across her jaw.
"I told you," one of the men—a burly deputy named Vance—snapped, flicking his cigarette ash onto the concrete floor. "You sign the retraction affidavit, you take the twenty grand, and you catch a bus to Atlanta. You start talking about Cameron Voss again, and the next ride you take won't be to a bus station."
Sarah lifted her head, her eyes flashing with defiance despite her tears. "He’s a monster. He left her to die in that garage... and he thinks because his daddy has money—"
The deputy raised his hand to strike her across the face.
CRASH.
The heavy corrugated metal door of the shed didn't just open—it blew inward, torn off its industrial hinges by a massive kinetic impact that sent a shower of sparks flying across the concrete.
Both deputies whipped around, reaching for their sidearms.
They never cleared leather.
Jax Vance was through the opening first, moving with terrifying speed. A single flying side-kick caught the first deputy square in the chest, lifting him off his feet and slamming him against a stack of spare tractor tires. He didn't get back up.
The second deputy—Vance—drew his pistol, but before his finger could find the trigger, a dark shadow dropped from the rafters above.
Miller landed squarely on the deputy's shoulders, bringing him crashing down to the gravel floor in a tangle of limbs and tactical webbing. Miller pinned his arm behind his back with a vicious twist that elicited a sharp, agonized scream, then drove the butt of his combat knife into the floor inches from the man's ear.
"Don't even think about it," Miller growled.
Blake walked slowly into the center of the shed. He didn't look at the deputies groaning on the floor. He walked straight to Sarah Lin, pulled out his combat knife, and sliced through the industrial zip-ties binding her wrists.
Sarah rubbed her raw skin, staring up at him in disbelief. "You... you're Blake Dean. Emily’s husband."
"Can you walk?" Blake asked gently, offering her a steady hand.
She nodded, tears spilling over her lashes. "Yes. Yes, I can."
"Good," Blake said, turning back to face the deputy pinned by Miller. He grabbed the man by his tactical vest and hauled him up to his knees. "Where is Sheriff Cole right now?"
The deputy coughed, blood trickling from his nose, his eyes wide with terror as he looked at the cold, empty abyss in Blake’s eyes. "He... he’s meeting Richard Voss at the county administration building at sunrise. They're... they're drafting an emergency warrant for your arrest under state terrorism statutes."
Blake nodded slowly. He looked at Jax, who was pulling plastic flex-cuffs from his pouch.
May you like
"Tie them up and put them in the trunk of the cruiser," Blake said. "Then call the FBI field office in DC. Tell them the evidence locker at the Henrico County precinct is officially open for inspection."
Jax grinned, clicking the cuffs into place. "With pleasure, Captain."
