Chapter 14
The black federal SUV tore down the highway onramp, its siren wailing a piercing warning as it merged into the fast lane of the interstate. In the back seat, Maya kept her eyes locked on her smartphone screen, tracking the real-time location ping of Marcus Sterling’s silver luxury sedan as it sped northward toward the international border crossing eighty miles away.
“He’s accelerating,” Maya reported, her voice steady and clinical, masking the turbulent emotions churning inside her chest. “He’s currently doing ninety-five miles per hour near mile marker forty-two. At this rate, he’ll reach the private airfield outside the county line in less than twenty minutes.”
In the front passenger seat, the lead federal agent nodded, speaking rapidly into her encrypted handheld radio to coordinate the roadblock deployment with the state highway patrol.
“All units, this is Command. We are establishing a tactical bottleneck at the Oak Creek overpass, mile marker fifty. Deploy the spike strips and prepare for a high-risk felony vehicle stop. The suspect is considered dangerous and is tied to a multi-million-dollar interstate financial fraud ring.”
Back at the suburban home, Arthur, Clara, and a subdued Julian waited in agonizing suspense, watching the live tactical feed broadcasted on the home security monitor that Maya had remotely linked to the living room television.
Through the grainy aerial dash-cam footage streaming live to the screen, they watched as three marked state police cruisers fell into formation behind the silver luxury sedan, their red and blue emergency lights strobing violently against the overcast gray sky.
Marcus Sterling’s car swerved aggressively across three lanes of traffic in a desperate, reckless attempt to evade the closing trap, but the state patrol units boxed him in with surgical precision, forcing the speeding vehicle toward the grassy shoulder near the Oak Creek overpass.
With a deafening screech of locked brakes and smoking rubber, the silver sedan collided heavily with the concrete Jersey barrier, spinning twice before coming to a violent halt against the embankment.
The live feed showed federal SUVs swarming the wrecked vehicle within seconds, tactical officers drawing their weapons and ordering the driver to exit with his hands raised.
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Slowly, the driver’s door of the silver sedan pushed open. A figure in a tailored grey suit stumbled out into the damp grass, raising his hands high into the air as federal agents rushed forward, slamming him against the hood of his car and snapping steel handcuffs around his wrists.
Marcus Sterling’s face was cast downward, his expensive clothes stained with airbag dust as the cameras captured the definitive end of his elaborate deception.
