Chapter 8 - THE TUNNEL UNDER THE RIVER
Gabe led us down a narrow, damp spiral staircase built inside the thick stone walls of the mansion.
Leo was crying softly, his small face buried against my neck, his little hands clutching my shirt so hard his knuckles turned white. I held him as tightly as I could, shielding his body with my own as we descended deep beneath the foundations of the house.
At the bottom of the stairs lay a cold, concrete corridor illuminated by dim yellow emergency lights. The air smelled of damp earth, river mud, and old iron.
"This tunnel runs three hundred yards beneath the estate grounds directly to a concealed boathouse on the Schuylkill River," Gabe explained in a low, urgent voice, racking the slide of his rifle. "Once we reach the boathouse, a boat is waiting to take you across to a safehouse in New Jersey."
"What about Luca?" I demanded, my voice shaking as I kept pace with his long strides. "Gabe, he's up there alone against twenty men!"
"Mr. Moretti isn't alone," Gabe replied, a grim smile touching his lips. "The rest of our tactical team was stationed at the north perimeter. They're pinching Romano's men from behind as we speak. But Luca needed to make sure Romano believed the baby was still in the main house."
We sprinted down the damp concrete tunnel, the muffled thuds of explosions vibrating through the thick stone ceiling above us.
After five agonizing minutes of running, we reached a reinforced steel door at the end of the corridor. Gabe pulled an electronic keycard from his vest, swiped it through the reader, and turned a heavy wheel latch.
CLANG-CLICK.
The heavy door swung open, revealing the interior of a covered boathouse. The dark, murky waters of the river lap-lapped against the wooden pilings beneath our feet. Tied to the slip was a sleek, matte-black high-speed boat.
"Get on board, Miss Vance," Gabe instructed, gesturing to the vessel. "I'm securing the tunnel door behind us."
I stepped onto the boat, settling into a deep leather seat in the covered cabin, wrapping Leo in a thick wool blanket from the storage locker.
Suddenly, a cold voice echoed from the shadowed rafters above the boat slip.
"Well, well... look what the river dragged in."
My blood went cold.
A tall, heavy-set man in a mud-splattered leather coat stepped out from the shadows of the upper catwalk, holding a suppressed pistol aimed straight at Gabe's chest!
THWIP-THWIP!
Gabe collapsed onto the wooden dock with a heavy groan, clutching his bleeding shoulder!
"Gabe!" I screamed!
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Dominic Romano—the head of the rival syndicate—walked down the stairs onto the dock, a cruel, triumphant smile stretching across his scarred face.
"Clara's little sister," Dominic sneered, stepping onto the edge of the boat, aiming his gun directly at my forehead. "You look just like her. And you're holding my golden ticket to destroying Luca Moretti."
