CHAPTER 7: The Desert Coordinates
The screech of tires echoed off the concrete walls of the sub-level garage as the two black SUVs came to a brutal, sliding halt twenty feet away from us. The doors flew open simultaneously, and four heavily armed men spilled out, their tactical gear glistening with water from the lobby sprinklers.
"Don't move!" a harsh voice barked across the garage, cutting cleanly through the hum of the idling engines.
Marcus didn't hesitate. He raised his Glock over the hood of the Maybach and fired two rapid shots, shattering the windshield of the lead SUV and sending the attackers scrambling for cover behind the heavy steel doors of their vehicles.
"Elena, listen to me very carefully," Marcus panted, pressing his back against the side of the car inches away from me, his breathing shallow and strained. "The pocket watch... press the gold stem twice. It has a hidden micro-projection drive. The coordinates to your father’s real sanctuary are on it. If they get that drive, everything your father built—and everything I spent twenty years protecting—goes up in smoke."
"Why didn't you just destroy it years ago?" I demanded, my fingers trembling as I clutched the heavy silver watch in my palm. The cold metal pressed sharply against my skin.
Marcus let out a grim, humorless laugh, a streak of blood slowly trickling down from a cut on his forehead where a piece of flying glass had grazed him upstairs. "Because your father left strict instructions: if the system ever collapsed, the key had to be handed to you personally. You’re the only one with the biometric clearance to unlock the primary vault."
Pop-pop-pop!
Suppressor-equipped gunfire chewed into the concrete pillar right beside our heads, sending a shower of gray dust and sharp stone fragments raining down over us.
"Marcus!" I screamed as a heavy impact spun Marcus around against the side of the car.
He slid down the sleek metal door, leaving a dark, slick smear of crimson against the black paint. He pressed his hand hard against his lower abdomen, his fingers instantly turning dark with blood.
"Go!" Marcus gasped, his voice weakening rapidly as his eyes lost their sharp, commanding edge. He shoved a heavy electronic key fob into my hand. "The Maybach is bulletproof up to B6 grade. Press the red ignition button on the console twice... and don't stop driving until you reach the coordinates in Joshua Tree."
"I'm not leaving you here!" I shouted, dropping to my knees beside him, trying to apply pressure to the wound with my bare hands.
"Elena, listen to me!" Marcus grabbed my wrist with a surprising burst of strength, his fingers digging into my skin. "Adrian... Adrian wasn't just working with Tessa. He made a deal with Vance six months ago to sell you out in exchange for clearing his corporate debts. He knew who you were before he ever married you."
The words hit me like a physical blow, freezing the blood in my veins. Fifteen years of marriage—a lie from the very first day.
Footsteps crunched heavily across the concrete floor just around the row of parked cars. They were closing in.
May you like
Marcus shoved the key fob hard into my hand, his eyes locking onto mine with a fierce, burning intensity. "Drive, Elena. Find your father. And don't trust a single soul—especially the man currently heading your firm's legal defense fund."
With a final, ragged breath, Marcus’s hand slipped from my wrist, his head falling back against the car tire as the life faded from his eyes.
