Chapter 8 - Into the Devil's Den
Z
The line went dead with a hollow click that sounded like a gunshot in the quiet kitchen.
"Rachel, what happened?" Evelyn demanded, stepping toward me as my phone slipped from my white-knuckled grip onto the granite countertop.
"They have her," I choked out, horror suffocating my chest. "They took Lily from Gloria’s house. They want you... they want your briefcase at Blackwood Point in one hour."
Evelyn’s face turned grim, her jaw setting into a hard line. "Blackwood Point is an abandoned naval radar station on the rocky bluffs three miles north of the harbor. It’s completely isolated. If we go in without tactical support—"
"There is no 'tactical support'!" I interrupted, my fear turning into white-hot fury. "Did you hear him?! They said if James or the police show up, they’ll kill her! I am not letting another child die because of Marcus Vance’s bloody secrets!"
I grabbed my coat from the wall rack and snatched the thick leather briefcase off the table, shoving Evelyn aside as she tried to grab my arm.
"Rachel, stop!" Evelyn commanded, pulling a small silver pistol from a shoulder holster inside her jacket. "I am a federal officer! You cannot walk into a trap carried out by professional mercenaries! They will not leave any witnesses!"
"Then you had better come with me and shoot straight!" I snapped, turning back to face her. "Because I am going to get Lily, with or without you!"
Evelyn stared at me for three long seconds, her eyes measuring my resolve. Slowly, she lowered her weapon, clicked the safety on, and shoved it back into her holster. "My car is outside. It has reinforced plating and an untraceable GPS jammer. Grab whatever weapons you have."
I ran into my office, pulled open the bottom desk drawer, and retrieved the heavy cast-iron flashlight and a tactical stun gun James had given me for self-defense after the first home invasion. Shoving them into my coat pockets, I followed Evelyn out into the pouring rain.
We tore down the highway in Evelyn’s black sedan, the wipers slapping rhythmically against the windshield as sheet rain hammered the glass. Blackwood Point was a desolate strip of coastline where jagged dark rocks met the roaring ocean. At the edge of the cliffs stood the dilapidated, iron-framed structure of the old 19th-century lighthouse, its black tower silhouetted against the flash of distant lightning.
"They’ll have spotters along the main access road," Evelyn said, killing the car’s headlights half a mile before the entrance turnoff. She rolled the car into a thick patch of overgrown pine trees off the dirt trail. "We walk from here. Keep low, stay off the open path."
We stepped out into the freezing storm. The wind howled off the Atlantic, whipping rain across our faces as we scrambled through the muddy brush up the incline toward the lighthouse base.
Through the darkness, I could see two dark SUVs parked near the ruined brick keeper's cottage at the base of the tower. A single dim light flickered from the top lantern room sixty feet in the air.
"There are at least three men guarding the perimeter," Evelyn whispered, crouching beside me behind a moss-covered boulder twenty yards from the cottage. "Professional posture, military gear. These aren't local thugs like Arthur hired. These are Apex mercenaries."
"How do we get inside?" I asked, my teeth chattering from the freezing wind and sheer terror.
"I’ll draw the two guards near the SUVs toward the tree line," Evelyn instructed, reaching into her pocket and pulling out two small flash-distraction devices. "When they move to investigate, you slip through the side maintenance hatch near the base of the tower. I’ll flank around through the keeper's cottage."
"Evelyn," I said, holding the heavy briefcase tight against my side. "If anything happens to me... make sure Lily gets back to her mother."
Evelyn looked at me, a brief flicker of warmth softening her harsh features. "Nothing is going to happen to you, Rachel. Now get ready."
Evelyn pulled the pins on the distraction devices and tossed them deep into the woods fifty yards to our left.
CRACK! CRACK!
Blinding white light and sharp, thunderous pops echoed through the trees.
The two guards near the SUVs immediately raised their assault rifles and moved cautiously toward the noise, their flashlights cutting through the rain.
"Go!" Evelyn hissed.
I darted out from behind the boulder, keeping low to the muddy ground, sprinting toward the rusted iron maintenance door on the northern side of the lighthouse base. The lock had been freshly cut with bolt cutters. I shoved the heavy door open, slipped inside, and pulled it shut behind me without making a sound.
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The interior of the lighthouse tower was a dark, hollow stone cylinder. A spiral iron staircase wound around the interior walls leading up into the darkness above. Drips of water echoed hollowly as they fell from the roof into a stagnant pool at the bottom.
At the very top of the stairs, a faint glow of light shone through an iron grate, accompanied by the terrified, muffled crying of a child.
