Chapter 13
The brick tunnel finally terminated at a heavy, iron-reinforced wooden door fitted with a modern marine-grade rubber gasket. Julian pushed against the panels, and the door swung outward with a soft hiss, admitting a rush of fresh, cool night air mixed with the sharp scent of pine and open water.
They stepped out into the shadows of the old stone boathouse. The structure sat directly over the black, glassy waters of the private mountain lake, surrounded by towering evergreens that blotted out the moonlight. Inside the wet slip, a sleek, matte-black electric utility boat bobbed gently against the rubber bumpers, its control console glowing with a soft, pulsing blue indicator light.
Elena breathed in the clean night air, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she secured Nica more comfortably in her arms. "The perimeter is clear," she murmured, scanning the tree line across the water where the distant lights of the main estate twinkled through the foliage.
Julian walked down the wooden pontoon dock and stepped aboard the electric boat, dropping his keys onto the console. He checked the digital navigation display; the pre-programmed route was locked in, pointing straight toward an abandoned logging dock five miles down the southern shoreline where a secure vehicle awaited.
"Get in," Julian said, holding out a steady hand to help Elena aboard.
Elena carefully stepped onto the deck, keeping Nica cradled securely against her chest. Arthur followed closely behind, his shotgun resting casually across his forearm as he cast a final, lingering look back toward the dark mouth of the brick tunnel they had just exited.
"They're coming," Arthur said softly.
A dull, concussive thud echoed from deep within the brick tunnel—the sound of an explosive breaching charge blowing the upper iron security hatch clean off its hinges. The Syndicate hit squad had found the chimney entrance and was now descending the spiral staircase at full speed.
"Cast off, Julian!" Elena shouted, dropping into the passenger seat and pulling Nica down below the gunwale for cover.
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Julian didn't hesitate. He slammed his hand onto the main throttle control. The electric motor whined softly, instantly engaging with a surge of torque that propelled the sleek craft forward out of the wet slip and into the open expanse of the lake.
A series of muffled pops echoed from the boathouse doorway behind them as silenced carbines opened fire. Bullets skipped across the black water, kicking up white sprays of foam inches from the stern of the accelerating boat. Julian hunched low over the steering console, keeping his eyes locked on the navigation lights ahead as the boat sliced through the dark water, leaving a wide, churning wake behind them in the moonlight.
