Chapter 6 - The Web Tightens
Watching Victoria stand over our crippled son with that level of clinical detachment tore away the last shred of grief in my heart, leaving behind an engine of pure, focused vengeance. Frank sat beside me, his hands frozen above the keyboard, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscles bulged against his skin.
""That's attempted murder, aggravated assault under color of authority, federal racketeering, and civil rights violations with catastrophic bodily injury,"" Frank whispered, his voice trembling with fury. ""Grant and Ryder are looking at life in federal penitentiary. And Victoria... God help her, Ethan, she's an accessory before and after the fact to the attempted murder of her own flesh and blood.""
""We can't just walk this into the local courthouse,"" I said, my voice dead and cold. ""Grant has judges in his pocket. The moment this footage hits the local clerk's office, the evidence will magically vanish from the server, and Mason will suffer a fatal 'medical complication' in that hospital bed before noon.""
""You're right,"" Frank agreed, pulling three encrypted flash drives from a fireproof safe beneath his desk. ""We don't take this to the county. We take this straight to the United States Attorney’s Office for the Northern District, and we trigger a simultaneous broadcast that Grant can't suppress.""
Before we could begin copying the multi-gigabyte video file, Frank’s exterior security monitors suddenly flashed amber.
On the perimeter surveillance screen, two tactical SUVs with high-output brush guards were barrelling down Frank’s private gravel driveway at seventy miles an hour, their headlights blacked out. They had tracked Victoria's private server access logs. They knew the download had originated from Frank's IP relay station.
""They're here,"" Frank said, grabbing two tactical rifles from the wall rack and tossing one directly into my arms. ""Ryder brought Grant's off-duty enforcement crew. They aren't here to serve an arrest warrant, Ethan. They're here to burn this farm to the ground and bury every drive in the ashes.""
The front windows of the farmhouse shattered inward as high-caliber rifle fire shredded the timber siding. Glass rained down into the kitchen above our heads. Plaster dust drifted through the floorboards like fine white snow.
""Basement escape tunnel,"" Frank commanded, pointing toward a heavy iron cellar hatch beneath a stack of oak pallets. ""It leads out past the horse pasture into the drainage culvert three hundred yards north. Take the master drives, Ethan! Run! I'll hold the breach long enough for you to get clear!""
""I'm not leaving you behind, Frank!"" I yelled over the deafening roar of automatic gunfire chewing through the farmhouse walls.
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""If they kill both of us, Mason dies in that hospital bed alone!"" Frank roared back, shoving the water-sealed tactical pouch containing the encrypted drives into my chest. ""Get this footage to the federal magistrate in the city! Make them pay for what they did to that boy! NOW GO!""
Frank kicked open the heavy iron hatch, dropped a smoke canister at the base of the basement stairs, and raised his rifle toward the splintering door. I threw myself into the damp, muddy darkness of the underground culvert just as heavy combat boots kicked the farmhouse door completely off its hinges.
