Chapter 21 - The Federal Hammer
Two Black Hawk helicopters swept over the industrial park, their powerful searchlights blinding the entire lot in a brilliant cascade of white light.
"FEDERAL AGENTS! DROP YOUR WEAPONS! GET ON THE GROUND!"
The megaphone blasted with such authority that the corrugated walls rattled. Sirens howled from every entrance of the storage facility as half a dozen armored tactical vehicles breached the perimeter gates, boxing in Evelyn’s extraction vans.
The operative outside my shutter didn't even have time to curse. Flashbangs detonated in the alleyway with deafening, disorienting cracks. Shouts, barking orders, and the violent sounds of men being slammed against concrete echoed from outside.
"Down! On your face! Hands behind your back!"
I snapped the Zippo shut and collapsed against the side of the SUV, my knees trembling so violently they could no longer support my weight.
Madison slumped against the steering wheel, letting out a ragged sob of pure relief.
Seconds later, the rolling shutter was thrown completely open. Federal marshals in tactical gear flooded the entryway, sweeping the room before lowering their weapons. Pushing through the line of agents, his left arm bound in a bloody sling and his face pale from shock, came Agent Vance.
He looked at the overturned drums, looked at the lighter in my hand, and let out a faint, disbelieving breath.
"You're completely out of your mind, Rachel," Vance murmured, a tired, respectful smirk touching his lips.
"I’m a mother," I answered, wiping the sweat and fumes from my brow. "Did you get Daniel?"
Vance’s expression hardened. "The state police picked him up three miles from your father's orchard. He was freezing, raving mad, running down Route 9 on foot. He’s in custody. Federal transport has already transferred him directly to the Metropolitan Detention Center’s maximum-security wing."
"And Evelyn?" Madison asked from behind me.
Vance pulled a secure tablet from his vest and turned the screen toward us.
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Live footage from Swiss federal police showed Zurich authorities boarding a private jet on the tarmac of Kloten Airport. Evelyn Sterling was being led down the mobile airstair in handcuffs, her mink coat askew, surrounded by armed international officers.
"Interpol executed a red notice thirty minutes ago," Vance said. "The Swiss froze all seventy-two offshore accounts. It's over. The entire dynasty has fallen."
