Chapter 5 - Escape to Chicago
Getting Sarah out of Mount Sinai Medical Center without alerting Meridian’s operatives required a level of deception I never knew I was capable of.
Using an abandoned janitor’s closet connecting to the emergency stairwell, I managed to wheel Sarah out through the ambulance bay wrapped in a spare hospital blanket and wearing a surgical mask. We hailed a battered cab three blocks away from the hospital, paying the driver cash to take us straight to Miami International Airport.
By sunset, we were airborne, seated in the back of a commercial flight heading north toward O’Hare.
The hum of the jet engines offered a strange, protective cocoon. Sarah slept fitfully beside me, her head resting against my shoulder, her body wracked with pain every time hit turbulence. I kept my eyes fixed on the seat in front of me, replaying every moment of the past forty-eight hours.
Three years of bitter separation, erased in a single night of reckless passion, only to be plunged into a deadly game of corporate espionage and survival.
When we landed in Chicago, the familiar autumn chill bit through my shirt, reminding me of the world I understood. But there was no time to rest. We took a private car directly to my penthouse apartment on the Magnificent Mile.
It was a fortress compared to the vulnerable motel rooms in Miami. Heavy steel-reinforced doors, private elevators with biometric scanners, and a secure perimeter.
I settled Sarah onto the master bed, bringing her painkillers, water, and warm soup, before retreating to my private study to map out our next move.
My phone buzzed on the mahogany desk.
An unknown number.
I answered it immediately.
“Mr. Miller,” Julian Vance’s calm, oily voice purred through the speaker. “Impressive escape act. I didn't think a brick-and-mortar man had it in him.”
My hand gripped the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white. “How did you get this number?”
“Mr. Miller, we own shipping ports, politicians, and telecommunications nodes across the entire Eastern Seaboard. Finding a private cell phone number in Chicago is trivial,” Julian said smoothly. “Let’s cut to the chase. You have the girl. You have the drive. But you cannot protect her forever. Every day you keep her in that glass cage of yours is another day we draw closer.”
“If you touch her, or come anywhere near this building, I’ll release the files directly to the FBI task force in Washington,” I lied smoothly, putting as much gravel and confidence into my voice as I could muster.
A low, mocking laugh echoed from the other end. “You’re welcome to try, Charles. But federal agencies take weeks to mobilize. We operate in hours. Unless... we make a deal.”
“What kind of deal?”
May you like
“You bring the drive to us. Downtown Miami, South Beach marina, tomorrow at midnight. Hand it over, and you and Sarah can walk away. Keep it, and tomorrow’s sunrise will be your last.”
The line went dead with a sharp click.
