Chapter 106 - Ambush at the Potomac
The surveillance screens around the vault flickered to life, showing tactical feeds from the cemetery grounds above.
Dozens of black tactical SUVs had surrounded the cemetery gates, blocking every vehicle exit onto the surrounding streets.
Heavy machine-gun teams in unmarked gray uniforms were deploying perimeter tripods across the marble tombstones.
They were not moving like federal agents attempting an arrest; they were moving like an extermination squad setting up a kill box.
"We have two minutes before they drop breaching charges through the chapel floor," Miller said, slamming a fresh magazine into his assault rifle.
"The van with Margaret and the Admiral is parked outside their primary perimeter, but they'll sweep the area within five minutes."
"They aren't going to get five minutes," Claire said coldly, her focus snapping entirely into combat execution mode.
She shoved the classified David Montgomery folder into her waterproof chest rig, followed by the server's master cryptographic drive.
"Vance thinks this bunker only has one entry point because he uses the chapel stairs."
"He forgot that historic fallout shelters built in the 1950s were required to have secondary drainage egress tunnels connecting to the municipal storm mains."
Claire vaulted over the desk, driving the heel of her combat boot into the decorative wood paneling beneath the Senate seal.
The false mahogany cracked, revealing an old iron hatch sealed with a rusted wheel valve.
Miller stepped in, gripping the wheel alongside Claire; with combined force, they wrenched the rusted iron open.
A blast of humid, sulfurous air rushed up from the subterranean drainage channel that flowed directly toward the Potomac River.
"Go!" Claire commanded as the ceiling above them shuddered under the first concussive thump of a military-grade breaching charge.
Miller dropped into the dark tube, landing waist-deep in the rushing storm runoff below.
Claire followed a split second before the chapel vault above them erupted in a hurricane of shattered concrete, steel shrapnel, and fire.
The shockwave slammed through the egress shaft, driving them forward through the rushing black water.
Claire surfaced fifty yards down the drainage main, spitting out brackish water, her weapon held high above the waterline.
Above them, through the iron street grates of the storm drain, they could hear the frantic radio chatter of Vance's mercenary teams.
*"Target lost in the blast! Sweeping subterranean drainage sectors toward the river now!"*
"Move," Claire whispered, dragging herself along the slippery concrete conduit.
They navigated the dark labyrinth of Washington’s storm system for ten grueling minutes until the tunnel widened into an arched stone outflow opening directly onto the Potomac shoreline.
Rain lashed against the black river surface as fog clung to the muddy embankment.
Fifty yards upstream, the unmarked tactical van was idling under the shadow of the highway overpass, its headlights turned off.
Claire and Miller scrambled up the slick, rocky bank, sliding into the van's side door just as two tactical choppers swept the river with blinding spotlights.
The Admiral threw the van into gear, burning rubber as they merged into the late-night commuter traffic on the George Washington Parkway.
In the rear compartment, Margaret sat huddled in the corner, staring at Claire with terrified, disbelieving eyes.
She saw the water-soaked classified folder clutched in Claire's hand—the folder bearing David’s name.
Margaret shrank back against the van wall as Claire stepped forward, her eyes black with cold, unbridled fury.
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"You let them kill him," Claire said, her voice dropping to a terrifying register.
"And tonight, Mother... you are going to help me burn Vance's kingdom to the ground."
