Continue the journey with the characters in Chapter Two and discover what happens next.

-7

"We've been compromised!" Detective Miller roared, drawing his service weapon and diving toward the reinforced steel door of the briefing room just as a heavy explosion rattled the outer corridor.

Debris rained down from the drop ceiling, and the acrid smell of high explosives mixed with the sterile air of the government facility.

"Lock the doors!" Evelyn screamed, helping Judge Henderson push a heavy oak conference table across the entrance to barricade it.

I rushed to the bassinet, scooping my son back into my arms. His eyes flew open at the sound of the blast, and he began to cry—a sharp, piercing wail that cut straight to my soul.

"Shh, shh, daddy's here," I whispered frantically, pressing him against my chest while pulling my jacket over him to block out the noise and dust.

"Jonathan! Over here!" Detective Miller shouted from the far corner of the room, where a secondary ventilation shaft hidden behind a whiteboard led upward toward the alleyway behind the municipal parking garage. "It’s an old maintenance egress! It'll take us out two blocks away from the compound!"

"Go! I'll cover the rear!" Evelyn shouted, unholstering a Glock pistol with the practiced ease of someone who had spent years prosecuting cartel bosses before joining the attorney general's office.

Suddenly, the heavy steel door of the briefing room buckled inward with a deafening screech.

Hydraulic breaching charges detonated against the frame, blowing the reinforced hinges completely off the wall. A cloud of thick smoke billowed into the room, and through the haze, three tactical operatives in dark armor swarmed across the threshold, their assault rifles sweeping the room with lethal precision.

"Target sighted! Secure the infant!" one of them barked in a harsh, robotic tone.

Detective Miller opened fire, his service pistol barking twice, catching the lead operative in the ballistic vest and sending him staggering backward. But the remaining two return-fired instantly, a hail of suppressive fire chewing through the drywall and shattering the wall-mounted monitors.

"Get in the shaft, Jonathan! Now!" Miller yelled, firing another round before his slide locked back on an empty magazine.

I didn't hesitate. I shoved the baby into the narrow metal opening of the ventilation shaft, scrambled in after him, and began crawling frantically through the dark, cramped conduit as the sound of gunfire and shattering glass echoed relentlessly behind us.

"Don't let them reach the street!" an unfamiliar voice echoed from the briefing room—a voice I recognized instantly, even through the distortion of a tactical comms unit.