Chapter 11: The Traitor in Blue
Beneath the chaos of the house, Elena practically crawled through the dark, narrow ventilation shaft.
Her knees were scraped, and her lungs burned from the dust, but she didn’t stop. She dragged seven-year-old Sarah behind her, tightly gripping the little girl’s trembling hand.
“Mommy, it’s too dark,” Sarah whimpered, tears cutting clean tracks through the soot on her face.
“I know, baby. I know. Just keep moving. We are almost to the car,” Elena choked out, forcing back her own absolute terror.
They reached the heavy metal grate at the end of the tunnel. Elena kicked it with both feet until the rusty hinges gave way. She tumbled out onto the cold concrete floor of the attached two-car garage.
Jennifer was already there, crouched behind the open door of a massive, armored black Suburban. The engine was silently purring.
“Elena! Over here!” Jennifer hissed, waving frantically. “Get her in the back!”
Elena scrambled up, lifting Sarah into the heavily fortified vehicle. “Where is Marcus? He stayed behind!”
“He knows what he’s doing,” Jennifer said, her hands shaking slightly as she checked the magazine of her sidearm. “My job is to get you out of here. Strap her in. We are busting through the garage door on three.”
Suddenly, the side door of the garage violently kicked open.
Jennifer instantly raised her weapon, aiming directly at the chest of the intruder.
“Hold your fire! Police!” a voice shouted.
A tall man wearing a standard-issue NYPD detective badge around his neck stepped into the garage, his service weapon drawn but pointed at the floor.
Elena gasped, her eyes widening in relief. “Detective Reynolds! Thank God. The cartel breached the house!”
Reynolds let out a heavy sigh, wiping sweat from his forehead. “I know, Elena. We got the distress signal. My squad is setting up a perimeter outside. You need to come with me right now.”
Jennifer didn’t lower her weapon. Her eyes narrowed, analytically scanning the detective.
“If your squad is setting up a perimeter, Detective, why are there no sirens? Why didn’t you radio in?”
Reynolds frowned, taking a slow step toward the Suburban. “Tactical silence, ma’am. We didn’t want to spook the shooters. Now lower the gun before you hurt someone.”
Elena stepped out of the SUV. “Jennifer, it’s okay. He’s the lead investigator on my case. He’s the one who hid us here.”
“Exactly,” Jennifer said, her voice dropping to a deadly, suspicious whisper. “He’s the one who hid you here. And the cartel found you in less than six hours.”
Elena froze. The realization hit her like a freight train.
Reynolds stopped walking. The friendly, relieved expression melted off his face, replaced by a cold, corporate deadness.
“You’re a very smart woman, Ms. Morrison,” Reynolds said quietly, slowly raising his service weapon to point directly at Jennifer’s chest. “But sometimes being smart just gets you killed faster.”
“You sold us out,” Elena whispered, stepping back, her hands instinctively flying to cover her mouth. “You sold my daughter to them.”
“They offered me two million dollars, Elena!” Reynolds snapped, his voice echoing in the concrete room. “Do you know what my pension is? I’m fifty years old and I can’t afford to send my kids to college! The cartel was going to win anyway. They always win!”
“They don’t win today,” Jennifer said, refusing to lower her gun.
“Put it down,” Reynolds ordered, his finger tightening on the trigger. “You pull that trigger, I put a bullet in your heart. You die, and they still take the kid. Is this really your fight?”
“It became my fight the second you threatened a child,” Jennifer replied fiercely.
Reynolds shook his head. “Suit yourself.”
He prepared to fire.
