Chapter 3 - Blood on the Ledger
Thirty minutes later, the Mercedes slid to a halt beside a snowbank on a deserted access road flanking the frozen dunes. The blizzard was so thick that the world existed only in shades of charcoal and freezing mist.
Fifty yards down an incline, the station wagon lay tilted on its side against an ancient pine tree, its headlights dead, the driver-side door forced open against the snow.
Victor leaped from the vehicle, plunging waist-deep into the snowdrifts. ""Nora!"" he shouted, the wind tearing the sound from his throat. ""Nora!""
He reached the wreckage. The driver's seat was empty. On the passenger side, two infant car seats were buckled into the rear bench—both empty. The blankets were missing, but on the floorboard lay a small, plastic medication bottle, crushed underfoot.
Leo’s respiratory drops.
Victor knelt into the freezing slush, picking up the bottle. It was cracked, the clear liquid frozen into shards. Blood spotted the passenger headrest. Fresh blood.
""Boss! Look here!"" Marco yelled from twenty yards away, shining a tactical flashlight into the snow.
Footprints. Small boots, uneven and dragging, accompanied by the distinct tread of heavy military-style boots. Nora had been limping, carrying the weight of two babies, but she was not alone. Someone had forced her out of the vehicle.
Near the edge of the tree line lay a body.
Victor rushed over, gun drawn. It was a man, dressed in tactical black, lying face-down in the drift. Victor kicked the body over. A bullet hole was punched neatly through the man’s throat. His jacket bore no insignia, but in his gloved hand was an empty syringe.
""A sedative,"" Marco muttered, inspecting the needle. ""They weren't trying to help her escape. They ambushed her.""
Victor looked at the dead man’s face. It was one of Vance’s enforcers.
Nora hadn't run away with Vance’s help; Vance had tricked her. Sylvia had fed Nora proof of Victor’s infidelity, orchestrated her panic, and tipped off a hit squad to intercept her the moment she left the security perimeter of the penthouse. Nora was the leverage Julian Vance needed to force Victor to surrender the port terminals.
""She fought back,"" Victor murmured, his chest tightening with sudden, fierce pride. Nora had grown up around quiet books, but she was a mother protecting her young. She had taken the dead man’s sidearm.
The drag marks continued through the dense pine forest toward an old commercial marina by the frozen edge of Lake Michigan.
""She’s heading for the docks,"" Victor said, his senses sharpening with lethal clarity. ""She knows the blizzard will cover her tracks, but the children can't survive this cold for more than an hour.""
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""Vance has a crew stationed at the marina warehouses,"" Marco warned, checking his assault rifle. ""At least a dozen men. They’ll be expecting her.""
""Good,"" Victor said, chambering a round into his .45 with a cold, metallic snap. ""Then they won't be surprised when the devil arrives.""
