Chapter 5: The Ambush on Route 9
The limousine hummed along the deserted stretch of Route 9, its headlights cutting a sharp swath through the thick fog rolling off the nearby river. Inside, Katherine kept her eyes fixed on the rear-facing tactical monitor, watching the GPS coordinates tick steadily toward the federal airstrip. Only twelve miles left. Twelve miles until they reached the secure perimeter of the military base where federal marshals and air transport awaited them.
Suddenly, the encrypted tactical tablet flared red, emitting a silent visual pulse. Three flashing icons appeared on the map, trailing fast behind them at high speeds. Local police cruisers, running without sirens or emergency lights, closing the gap with terrifying efficiency.
“Driver,” Katherine called out calmly, her voice projecting through the intercom partition. “We have unauthorized tail vehicles. Increase speed to maximum safe limit and prepare for defensive driving protocols.”
“Copy that, Commander,” the driver responded, his voice steady despite the sudden spike in tension. The limousine surged forward, the powerful engine roaring as it ate up the asphalt.
Behind them, the headlights of the pursuing cruisers abruptly flickered to life, flashing a blinding wall of red and blue. The piercing wail of sirens shattered the night air. A loudspeaker crackled through the humid darkness, booming a distorted command. “Pull the vehicle over immediately! This is a local police stop! Pull over or we will open fire!”
Katherine did not blink. She knew local police had no jurisdiction over a federal military transport operating under national security directives, but desperation made men do foolish things, especially men on Arthur Sterling’s payroll. She reached down and secured her service sidearm, checking the chamber with a practiced, silent motion, all while holding the baby firmly against her chest with her left arm.
The first cruiser pulled alongside the limousine, its passenger window rolling down. A burly officer leaned out, holding a tactical shotgun and gesturing wildly for the luxury car to hit the shoulder. The driver of the limousine maintained his lane, holding a steady, unyielding course down the center of the highway.
Frustrated, the police cruiser swerved sharply, attempting to sideswipe the limousine and force it into the guardrail. Metal screeched against metal, sending a shower of orange sparks dancing across the wet pavement. Inside the cabin, the sudden impact caused the vehicle to sway, but Katherine braced her feet firmly against the floorboards, absorbing the shock entirely so that the infant didn't even wake from her deep slumber.
“Hold steady,” Katherine instructed softly, her voice an anchor of calm in the storm.
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With a calculated flick of his wrist, the limousine driver executed a swift counter-maneuver, tapping the brakes and swinging the heavy luxury vehicle into a controlled skid that clipped the cruiser’s rear quarter panel, sending the police car spinning off into the grassy embankment.
Two cruisers remained, but ahead, breaking through the fog, the massive chain-link security gates of the federal airstrip loomed into view, floodlights illuminating the tarmac where a gray C-130 transport plane idled with its ramp lowered and engines roaring. Katherine exhaled slowly, her mission entering its final phase.
