Chapter 5
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The dense woods of the Connecticut valley were cold, dark, and unforgiving in the middle of the midnight storm.
Mud clung to Sarah's sneakers with every desperate step she took, making every stride feel like dragging lead weights through the dark.
Branches scratched at her face and tore at her light grey housekeeping uniform, but she never loosened her grip on Tommy.
Behind them, the distant beams of tactical flashlights swept erratically through the thick canopy of trees.
"Spread out! Search every square inch of these woods!" a rough male voice commanded, echoing ominously over the howling wind.
"The boss wants the boy alive, but the nanny is completely expendable!" another voice shouted back from further down the ridge.
Sarah ducked behind the massive trunk of an ancient oak tree, pressing her back against the wet bark to catch her breath.
Her lungs burned like liquid fire, and her heart pounded against her ribs like a trapped bird.
Tommy pressed his small face into her neck, his body shivering uncontrollably from the freezing rain soaking his pajamas.
"Sarah... my feet hurt," Tommy whimpered, his voice barely a breath against her ear.
"I know, baby, I know," Sarah whispered back, gently stroking his wet hair. "We just need to reach the old highway station."
Sarah knew these woods better than the mercenaries chasing them; her grandfather had spent thirty years working as a ranger in this state park.
A mile north lay an abandoned ranger station equipped with an old analog telephone line that ran underground, immune to signal jammers.
If she could reach that cabin, she could contact someone outside Victoria’s massive circle of corruption.
She took a deep breath, checked the dark trail ahead, and stepped out from behind the safety of the oak tree.
Suddenly, a heavy, gloved hand reached out from the shadows, grabbing Sarah's shoulder with a crushing grip.
Sarah reacted on pure instinct, spinning around and driving her elbow hard into her attacker's ribs with all her force.
The man grunted in pain, loosening his grip just enough for Sarah to slip away from his grasp.
In the dim moonlight filtering through the trees, Sarah recognized the scarred face of the chief mercenary who had confronted them in the basement.
"You're remarkably persistent for a housemaid, girl," the man sneered, drawing a tactical combat knife from his chest vest.
"I don't get paid enough to chase children through the mud, so let's end this right here."
Sarah backed away slowly, her eyes searching the muddy ground for anything she could use as a weapon.
Her shoe brushed against a heavy, jagged rock half-buried in the wet earth.
"Stay behind me, Tommy," Sarah commanded in a low, deadly voice, crouching down to grab the rock.
The mercenary lunged forward, the silver blade of his knife slicing through the cold air with lethal speed.
Sarah sidestepped the attack, dodging the blade by inches, and slammed the heavy rock directly into the side of the man's knee.
A sickening crack echoed through the quiet forest as the mercenary screamed in agony, falling heavily onto his knees in the mud.
Before he could recover, Sarah kicked him hard in the chest, sending him sliding down the steep, muddy ravine behind him.
His loud shouts faded as he tumbled into the raging, dark river waters at the bottom of the gorge.
Sarah didn't waste a second watching him sink; she grabbed Tommy's hand and sprinted toward the northern ridge.
Ten minutes later, the silhouette of the wooden ranger station appeared through the fog, dark and silent against the stormy sky.
Sarah rushed up the wooden steps, throwing her shoulder against the front door until the rusted latch snapped open.
They burst inside, slamming the heavy wooden door shut and sliding the iron security bar into place.
The cabin was dark and smelled faintly of old pine wood, dry leaves, and dusty paper.
Sarah rushed over to the dusty wooden desk in the corner, where a heavy, black rotary telephone sat covered in cobwebs.
She picked up the receiver, pressing it tightly against her ear as she held her breath in desperate anticipation.
A clear, steady dial tone hummed through the speaker—a sound that felt like pure gold in the dark.
Sarah rapidly dialed the emergency number for the Federal Bureau of Investigation's regional office in Hartford.
"FBI Emergency Dispatch, state your location and emergency," a calm, professional female voice answered on the third ring.
May you like
"My name is Sarah Jenkins," Sarah gasped, her tears finally overflowing. "I have Thomas Sterling Jr. with me. Victoria Sterling is trying to murder us."
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