Chapter 9
Arthur’s face darkened instantly, the mask of cool confidence shattering into pure, unadulterated rage. He lunged across the table, his hand shooting out to grab Agent Vance by the collar of his rumpled trench coat and yank the corrupt investigator violently out of the booth.
"Is this true?!" Arthur roared, shaking Vance so hard the agent’s glasses slipped down his nose. "Did she upload a dead-man's switch?!"
"I—I don't know! She didn't say anything about a timer!" Vance stammered, his face draining of all color as he scrambled to regain his footing on the linoleum floor.
The momentary chaos was all the opening Elena needed. With a sudden, explosive burst of movement, she bolted past the two heavies blocking the diner entrance. One of the men lunged out to grab her arm, but Elena ducked low, pivoting on her heel and slamming her elbow back into his solar plexus with surprising force. The man gasped, doubling over and crashing into a rack of potato chip displays.
"Stop her!" Arthur screamed, shoving Vance aside and sprinting down the aisle after her.
Elena burst through the heavy glass doors of the diner into the cold morning air. The wind whipped her hair across her face as she sprinted across the gravel parking lot toward David’s idling sedan. The driver’s side door swung open before she even reached it.
"Get in! Now!" David yelled, his face pale with adrenaline.
In the back seat, Lily let out a startled cry, clutching her gray hoodie tightly around herself. Elena didn't hesitate; she dove into the front passenger seat, slamming the door shut just as the two henchmen burst out of the diner doors behind them.
"Drive, David! Drive!" Elena shouted.
David slammed his foot down on the accelerator. The sedan’s tires shrieked against the gravel, spitting small stones into the air as the vehicle fishtailed onto Route 9. In the rearview mirror, Elena watched Arthur emerge from the diner doorway, his face twisted in a mask of murderous fury as he watched his prey escape yet again.
As the diner shrank into the distance, David let out a ragged breath, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were stark white. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"
"I'm fine," Elena panted, pressing a hand against her racing chest. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her backup radio transmitter—the one Vance had missed during the pat-down in the booth. "And more importantly... we got what we needed."
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David glanced over in disbelief. "You played Vance?"
"From the moment we walked in," Elena confirmed, a fierce, triumphant smile finally breaking through her exhaustion. "Now, let’s send that data to Washington."
