Chapter 12 - The Price of a Son
Ward's hand trembled around her weapon. The MPs were too far behind her to see it, but Avery could. She kept her own hands open and visible.
“What's his name?” Avery asked.
“Ben. He's twelve.”
“Where is he?”
“I don't know anymore.” Ward swallowed. “They took him from soccer practice.”
Avery recognized the look on her face. Not cowardice. Terror with nowhere safe to go.
One of the MPs stepped closer. “Major, complete the arrest.”
“Give me a minute,” Ward snapped.
Ruiz's laptop chimed. A new file loaded on the monitor. It was a photograph of Ben sitting in the passenger seat of a car, holding a handmade soccer trophy. The timestamp was less than an hour old.
“Who sent that?” Ward whispered.
“Someone inside their system,” Ruiz said.
Avery made her decision. “You can arrest us, or you can help us expose the people who took him. If they wanted him safe, they wouldn't have shown you that photograph.”
The senior MP raised his weapon toward Ruiz. Mercer stepped between them. “He's a kid with a laptop. Lower it.”
Avery glanced at the hanging cable tray. Above the MP's head was a maintenance hose. She pulled its release, sending a sudden curtain of harmless wash water across the trench. In the confusion Ward struck the MP's weapon aside. Mercer restrained the second officer. The third retreated, calling for backup.
“Go!” Ward shouted. “I'll buy you time.”
“No more people left behind,” Avery replied. She hauled Ward toward the cabinet just as the timer reached zero.
The steel door clicked open.
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Inside, surrounded by server racks and blinking lights, a man sat bound to a chair. He looked up at Avery with exhausted eyes.
“I'm Marcus Dean,” he said. “And Emma's still on this base.”
