Chapter 5 - Sirens in the Dark
Millions of tiny glass shards rained down over Lily as a gloved hand reached through the broken window, grabbing her tiny shoulder with terrifying force.
"No! Let go of my daughter!" Arthur roared, lunging across the center console and slamming his fist directly into the intruder's masked face.
The attacker grunted in pain, releasing his grip on Lily just long enough for Arthur to yank his terrified daughter into his chest, shielding her body with his own. Glass cut deeply into the back of Arthur’s hands, but he ignored the searing pain, kicking out with his heavy boot to strike the side of the car door where the assailant stood.
Footsteps pounded heavily against the pavement as two police officers in uniform rushed out from the precinct steps, their heavy boots thudding against the concrete.
"Stop right there! Put your hands on your head where we can see them!" a female officer yelled, drawing her service weapon and pointing it directly at the masked figure lurking beside Arthur’s car.
The assailant cursed loudly, turning on his heel and sprinting toward a dark sedan parked illegally in the red zone fifty feet away. The car screeched its tires, throwing up a cloud of thick gray smoke as it tore down the street and vanished around the corner before the officers could read the license plate.
Arthur sat panting heavily in the driver's seat, holding Lily tightly as she sobbed hysterically into his bloodied shirt.
"Sir, stay inside the vehicle, do not move!" the male officer shouted as he approached cautiously, peering through the shattered window with a flashlight. "Good god, what happened here?"
"They attacked us... someone is trying to kill us," Arthur gasped, his voice cracking with exhaustion and terror. "It’s Claire. My ex-fiancée... she orchestrated this."
The officer lowered his weapon slightly, recognizing the frantic state of the father and child. "Step out slowly, sir. Let's get you and the little girl inside the station immediately."
Ten minutes later, Arthur sat at a metal interrogation table inside the precinct, a white gauze bandage wrapped tightly around his bleeding knuckles. Across the table sat Detective Miller, an older man with silver-streaked hair, deep worry lines etched around his eyes, and a cup of black coffee steaming in his hands.
Miller slid the folded piece of paper and the shattered wrench across the metal surface, his expression grim and calculating.
"Arthur, you walked into the precinct waving a threatening note and claiming your runaway bride is running a violent syndicate," Miller said quietly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. "You need to understand how insane this sounds to anyone else."
"I don't care how it sounds, Miller! She drained my accounts, she faked a corporate takeover this morning, and now she is trying to kidnap my daughter!" Arthur insisted, slamming his bandaged hand onto the table.
Miller held up a hand to calm him, taking a slow sip of his coffee before sliding a printed police report dossier across the table.
"Listen to me carefully, Arthur," Miller whispered, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. "The woman you knew as Claire did not exist until two years ago. We ran her fingerprints from the chapel door handles. Her real name isn't Claire at all, and she is tied to an international identity-theft ring."
Arthur froze, his breath catching in his throat as the chilling words sank into his brain.
"Then who is she?" Arthur asked, his voice trembling uncontrollably.
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Before Miller could answer, the overhead lights in the interrogation room flickered violently and died, plunging them into absolute darkness, save for the eerie red emergency glow of the hallway exit sign.
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