Chapter 9 - The Trap at the Bridge
The darkness inside the van became absolute as Julian killed the headlights, relying entirely on his memory of the winding gravel road.
Behind him, the twin beams of the pursuing SUV brightened, their drivers clearly frustrated by the sudden disappearance of their target’s red tail-lights.
Julian gripped the steering wheel tighter, his foot pressing harder against the accelerator as the wooden planks of the old logging bridge rumbled beneath his tires.
He knew the bridge had been condemned by the county three years ago, its structural integrity compromised by rotting timber and seasonal floods.
As the front wheels of the van cleared the far side of the span, Julian slammed on the emergency brake and threw open the driver’s door.
He rolled out onto the wet gravel, scraping his shoulder against the rough stones as the heavy delivery van coasted forward into the brush.
A fraction of a second later, the pursuing SUV rounded the curve at top speed, its driver unable to react in time to the unlit obstacle ahead.
The SUV plowed directly into the rear of the stalled van with a deafening screech of crumpled steel and shattering glass.
The impact sent both vehicles careening toward the rotting wooden guardrails of the condemned bridge, which splintered like matchsticks under the weight.
Julian scrambled behind a thick oak tree at the edge of the clearing, his heart hammering against his ribs as he watched the unfolding chaos.
With a sickening groan of stressed metal, the front end of the SUV broke through the barrier, dangling precariously over the rushing river twenty feet below.
Inside the dangling vehicle, the alarm systems blared erratically, casting flashes of red light across the mist rising from the dark water.
Julian crept cautiously toward the edge of the road, peering down into the driver’s side window of the wrecked SUV to identify the occupants.
To his shock, it wasn’t corporate security guards inside the front seats; it was two high-ranking corporate lawyers from Arthur Vance’s legal team.
The passenger-side door popped open, and a terrified lawyer spilled out onto the solid ground of the riverbank, coughing and clutching a bleeding arm.
Julian stepped out from the shadows, blocking the man’s only escape route toward the dense forest with a cold, menacing stillness.
“Tell me where Arthur Vance is holding the original board resolutions, or I let gravity finish what this bridge started,” Julian demanded, pointing down at the hanging SUV.
The lawyer looked up, his face pale with terror as he recognized the man they had spent a decade trying to legally destroy.
“He’s… he’s at the corporate headquarters downtown… calling an emergency shareholder vote for midnight,” the lawyer stammered, raising his hands in surrender.
Julian pulled the satellite communicator from his pocket, dialing Marcus’s private frequency to relay the coordinates of the impending corporate coup.
“Marcus, change of plans. We’re heading straight for the headquarters. They’re calling a midnight vote to strip the remaining family assets,” Julian said into the receiver.
The lawyer on the ground groaned, clutching his broken wrist as sirens began to wail in the distance, echoing off the canyon walls.
“You’ll never make it in time, Julian. Vance owns the police, the board, and the city council,” the lawyer spat weakly through bloody lips.
May you like
Julian ignored him, turning away from the wreckage as the SUV finally gave way and plunged into the dark river below with a heavy splash.
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