Chapter 7 - The Drainage Ditch Escape
The drop from the motel bathroom window was a brutal six-foot plunge into the jagged concrete of the utility alley below. Miller hit the ground first, rolling expertly to absorb the impact before coming up on one knee with her Glock raised toward the open window.
Julian dropped beside her, grunting as his bad shoulder jarred against the asphalt. He scrambled to his feet, clutching the heavy black duffel bag tightly against his chest. Williams dropped down last, landing heavily and immediately sweeping the dark, narrow corridor with his flashlight beam.
"Clear!" Williams hissed, flashing his light toward the mouth of the alley. "The drainage ditch runs parallel to the highway about fifty yards down. If we can reach the culvert, we can lose them in the storm drains."
Above them, muffled shouts echoed from inside Room 14 as the tactical team realized their targets had vanished. Heavy boots pounded on the metal grating of the exterior stairs, and a powerful tactical flashlight swept across the alleyway entrance, painting the damp brick walls in harsh white light.
"They're deploying K-9 units," Julian whispered, his face tightening as he listened to the distinct, sharp barks ringing out from the motel parking lot. "If those dogs catch our scent in this open alley, we'll never make the culvert."
Miller scanned the surrounding walls. A rusted iron fire escape ladder hung suspended ten feet above their heads, just out of reach.
"Give me a boost," Miller instructed Williams, holstering her weapon.
Williams locked his hands together, and Miller placed her boot in his palms. With a powerful upward thrust, she launched herself into the air, her fingers wrapping desperately around the lowest rung of the iron ladder. With a grunt of effort, she hauled her body upward, swinging her legs over the rail and climbing until she reached the landing.
"Catch the bag!" Julian called out, heaving the heavy black canvas duffel upward with all his strength.
Miller leaned over the rusty railing, catching the heavy strap just as a German Shepherd's frantic barking echoed at the mouth of the alley. Below, the bright beam of a tactical flashlight cut straight through the darkness, illuminating Williams and Julian standing exposed against the brick wall.
"Federal agents! Don't move!" a harsh voice roared from the end of the alley.
Without thinking, Williams drew his service weapon and fired two warning shots into the brickwork above the operatives' heads, creating a shower of masonry dust that forced the tactical team to duck for cover.
"Climb, Julian! Now!" Williams yelled, practically lifting the younger man toward the dangling ladder.
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Julian leaped upward, his fingers grazing the iron rung before Miller reached down, grabbing his wrist and hauling him onto the platform just as a volley of suppressed gunfire chewed viciously into the metal plating inches from their boots.
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