Chapter 8 - The Escape Hatch
The tunnel beneath the mansion was cold, damp, and smelled of salt water and old granite.
Gabriel descended the steep stone steps two at a time, his flashlight beam cutting through the dense darkness. Fifty feet below the foundation of the house, the noise of the surface storm faded into a dull, thrumming roar of waves crashing against the outer cliff.
At the bottom of the stairs, the tunnel opened into a large, concrete-walled boathouse carved directly into the living rock of the coastal cove.
Floating in the dark water was the sleek, matte-black aluminum hull of the escape vessel. Its silent electric motors were already humming softly, the blue LED dashboard displays glowing in the shadows.
Hannah was standing on the narrow wooden dock, holding a tactical flashlight. Eli was securely strapped into a custom shock-absorbing seat in the center of the boat’s enclosed cabin.
"Is it done?" Hannah asked as Gabriel burst through the tunnel doorway.
"Marcus is down," Gabriel panted, stepping onto the dock. "The state police have secured the outer gate. But Hayes will know the moment Marcus misses his three o'clock check-in."
"He already knows," Hannah said grimly, pointing her flashlight toward the mouth of the cove.
Through the heavy rain outside the boathouse sea gate, two bright searchlight beams were cutting through the black water.
A forty-foot commercial harbor patrol vessel—modified with armored plating and belonging to the Port Authority Security Division—was idling two hundred yards off the coast, blocking the entrance to the open ocean.
"Hayes sent his own boat," Gabriel realized, his jaw tightening. "He was waiting offshore in case Marcus failed."
"Can your boat outrun them?" Hannah asked, stepping aboard and taking the helm controls.
"In open water, yes. This boat uses twin hydrofoil electric jets. It can do fifty knots," Gabriel said, boarding the vessel and sealing the reinforced composite door behind him. "But we have to clear the narrow cove channel first without getting squeezed against the granite walls."
Gabriel stepped into the cockpit, reaching over to double-check Eli’s five-point safety harness.
The boy looked up at his father. His cheeks were red from the cold air, but his eyes were clear, bright, and entirely focused.
"Dad," Eli said, reaching out to grab Gabriel's sleeve. "Are we going fast?"
Gabriel felt a sudden, powerful surge of pride wash over him. "Very fast, Eli. Hold onto your boat."
Eli raised his small right hand, tightly clutching the wooden sailboat his mother had bought him years ago. "I'm holding it."
Gabriel turned to Hannah. "Drop the sea gate!"
Gabriel hit the manual release lever on the boathouse wall. Heavy iron chains rattled as the underwater iron gate sank into the silt, opening the narrow mouth of the cove to the roaring ocean.
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Hannah shoved the dual throttle levers forward.
The electric jet engines shrieked with immense power. The black aluminum boat surged out of the boathouse like a torpedo, slicing through the white-capped ocean waves and bursting into the violent Atlantic storm.
