Chapter 13 - Into the Catacombs
The hidden elevator dropped rapidly into the absolute darkness of the cliffside catacombs, the mechanical hum of the cables muffled by thick stone walls. The air grew damp and cold, smelling heavily of saltwater and ancient rock. Julian held a small tactical flashlight, casting a narrow beam of white light across the rough-hewn stone tunnel as we descended further away from the approaching federal agents above.
“How did you even know about this escape route?” I asked, keeping my footing steady despite the high heels I was still wearing, though I had long since snapped the broken heels off completely.
“Arthur and I used to explore these caves when we were children,” Julian replied without looking back, his voice echoing in the narrow corridor. “Before our father’s obsession with power and money tore our family apart. He thinks he’s the only one who remembers the blueprints of this estate. He’s wrong.”
The elevator car came to a sudden, gentle halt with a soft metallic chime. The heavy iron gate slid open manually, revealing the dark, lapping waters of a subterranean tidal cave. Moored against a private wooden dock sat a sleek, high-powered black Zodiac speed boat, its engine pre-warmed and idling with a low, throaty purr.
“Get in the bow,” Julian instructed, tossing me a heavy waterproof utility jacket to throw over my ruined white lace gown.
I slipped the jacket over my shoulders, stepping carefully into the rolling boat and grabbing hold of the safety rail. Julian unmoored the lines with practiced efficiency, leaped into the pilot's seat, and slammed the throttle forward.
The Zodiac shot out of the subterranean cave like a bullet from a gun, bursting from the absolute darkness into the bright, moonlit expanse of the open ocean. The cold night air whipped wildly around my face, blowing my veil completely off into the foaming white wake behind us.
“Where to?” I shouted over the deafening roar of the twin outboard motors as Julian carved a sharp turn toward the city skyline in the distance.
“The old maritime harbor,” Julian yelled back, his eyes locked on the glowing GPS screen mounted on the dashboard. “Arthur is boarding a private cargo freighter bound for international waters within the hour. If we don't intercept him before he clears the bay, we lose him forever.”
The speed boat bounced violently over the choppy waves, sending cold spray crashing over the bow. My heart raced, not with fear, but with a fierce, burning adrenaline. For the first time since the wedding reception started, I felt completely alive.
As the rusted cranes and towering shipping containers of the old harbor district loomed ahead in the distance, Julian cut the engine, letting the boat glide silently toward a darkened pier.
“This is it,” Julian whispered, pulling a suppressed firearm from his jacket and handing it to me. “Can you shoot if you have to?”
I took the weapon, feeling its heavy, balanced weight in my hands, and met his gaze with absolute resolve.
May you like
“Try me.”
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