Chapter 8
Before Agent Connor's hand could clear her jacket lining, Marcus lunged forward with explosive speed.
He slammed his heavy duffel bag into the agent's shoulder, knocking her off balance onto the wet tarmac.
A sleek silenced pistol clattered across the pavement, spinning into a nearby drainage grate.
"Run, Maya! Run!" Marcus screamed at the top of his lungs, tackling the agent to the ground.
Maya didn't hesitate for a single second, turning on her heel and sprinting toward the dark perimeter fence.
Gunshots echoed behind her, their muffled pops swallowed up by the roar of the jet engines.
She vaulted over the low chain-link fence, tumbling into the tall grass of the surrounding drainage field.
Mud splattered across her olive green sweatpants as she scrambled back to her feet, panting heavily.
She pulled the satellite communicator from her pocket, her fingers moving frantically across the keypad.
She dialed an emergency distress code known only to her late grandfather's inner circle.
A harsh, mechanical tone chimed through the earpiece before a deep, calm male voice answered.
"State your clearance code, operative," the voice commanded calmly.
May you like
"Code Delta-Nine-Seven," Maya gasped out, running through the pitch-black field.
"The Vance enterprise is compromised, and they just took Marcus."
