CHAPTER 17 — The Extraction Plan
The blaring alarms shattered the controlled environment of the mission. Someone had tipped off the cops—likely one of Vance’s own men who saw the van outside and panicked. The blue and red flashing lights of police cruisers were already reflecting through the high, dirty windows of the warehouse. I looked at Vance, who was suddenly grinning, his confidence returning in a rush.
"Looks like you're the one going to jail, Captain," Vance sneered. "I'll tell them you assaulted my guard and tried to rob me. Those ledgers will be thrown out as illegally obtained evidence. And then, I'll take your mother's house just for spite."
I didn't waste time arguing. I stepped forward, grabbed Vance by the lapels of his expensive suit, and drove my knee hard into his solar plexus. The air rushed out of his lungs in a sharp gasp, and he crumpled to the floor, incapacitated but conscious. "Ghost Two, Ghost Three," I spoke into my comms rapidly, heading for the secondary exit I had mapped out during our recon. "Police presence confirmed. Do not engage law enforcement. Fall back to the secondary rally point. I will handle the extraction."
"Sarah, you're trapped," Elias warned, the sound of typing echoing over the mic. "They've surrounded the front and side exits. The only way out is through the roof, but it's a sheer drop."
"I'll manage," I said, breaking into a sprint. I burst out of the office, sliding down the metal staircase just as the warehouse's front loading doors were breached. "Police! Nobody move!" echoed the booming voice of law enforcement. I ducked behind a forklift, the canvas bag of ledgers tight against my chest. I couldn't be arrested. If I was caught, the ledgers would indeed be inadmissible, Vance would win, and my family would be destroyed.
I moved through the shadows with desperate speed, navigating the labyrinth of crates. I reached the back wall, where a massive stack of wooden pallets led up toward a skylight. It was a risky climb, but I had no choice. I holstered my stun gun, slung the bag tight, and began to scale the unstable wood. Below me, flashlight beams sliced through the darkness, sweeping the aisles. "Check the upper office!" a cop shouted.
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I reached the top of the pallets, balancing precariously twenty feet in the air. The skylight was locked from the inside. I pulled my heavy steel flashlight, wrapped my sleeve around my hand, and punched upward with all my strength. The glass shattered, raining shards onto the floor below. "Hey! Up there!" a voice yelled.
I pulled myself through the broken frame, scrambling onto the cold, tar-papered roof just as a flashlight beam hit the ceiling. The freezing night air hit me like a wall. I sprinted across the roof, heading for the alleyway. Below, Elias had perfectly timed the extraction. The unmarked van was waiting in the narrow alley. I didn't hesitate. I leaped from the edge of the roof, aiming for the reinforced suspension of the van's roof. I hit the metal hard, rolling to absorb the impact, bruising my ribs but maintaining my grip on the bag. I scrambled down the back doors, pulled the handle, and threw myself inside as Elias hit the gas, leaving the police cruisers in the dust.
