Chapter 12
The flashing red and blue lights of distant police cruisers began to reflect off the rain-slicked windows of room twelve, cutting through the darkness with an urgent, pulsing rhythm.
Sarah clutched the small silver flash drive tightly in her hand, her knuckles white, as she stared up at Jax.
"The police won't help us," Sarah said, coughing into a handkerchief that came away stained with a worrying hint of crimson. "Vance owns half the department. If they catch us, we don't make it to a holding cell."
Jax holstered his pistol, stepping closer and kneeling down beside Sarah and Leo to check on her condition.
Her skin was paper-white, her breathing shallow and labored—the unmistakable toll of a chronic illness left untreated during years of relentless running.
"You're sick," Jax stated quietly, his voice devoid of judgment, filled only with a deep, aching sorrow.
"I'm dying, Jax," Sarah corrected him gently, forcing a faint, tired smile. "I've known it for a year. That's why I came back. I couldn't leave Leo alone in this world with no one to protect him. I needed you to find us."
Leo buried his face tighter into his mother's shoulder, his small body shaking with silent, heartbroken sobs.
Jax gently placed his large, calloused hand over both of theirs, feeling the fragility of the lives he had spent a decade trying to shield from his own violent past.
"I won't let them touch you," Jax vowed, his voice ringing with absolute, unbreakable conviction. "What's on that drive, Sarah?"
"Everything," she replied, holding out the silver USB stick. "Evidence of the syndicate's money laundering through federal contracts, signed off by Senator Vance himself. They hunted us because I copied the master ledger before I walked away."
Suddenly, the heavy roar of multiple heavy-duty engines echoed from the parking lot below, followed by the screech of tires and the slamming of heavy truck doors.
"They're here," Jax whispered, standing up instantly and drawing his weapon back into his hand.
He peered cautiously out the shattered doorway down into the motel parking lot.
Three black tactical vans had blocked off both exits of the motel, and a dozen heavily armed operatives in black body armor were pouring out, spreading out across the stairs and ground floor.
"We're trapped," Sarah said, her voice dropping into a tone of quiet resignation. "There's no way out through the stairs."
Jax’s mind raced, scanning the room for any alternative exit—a vent, a window, a crawlspace.
His eyes locked onto the small bathroom window at the back of the room, which opened up onto the rusted metal maintenance ladder leading down to the alley behind the motel.
"The bathroom window," Jax commanded, turning back to them. "Sarah, can you climb?"
May you like
"I have to," she whispered, struggling to her feet with Leo's help.
Just as Sarah reached the bathroom door, a deafening blast shattered the wall beside the motel entrance, and a smoke grenade came rolling across the carpet, hissing and spewing thick, choking grey smoke into the room.
