Chapter 2 - The Confidential Page

"How?" I gasped, rushing to the window and peering through a small slit in the iron shutter. "How did they find us?"

Outside, three black SUVs were parked in a semicircle, their high beams blindingly bright against the cabin. Five men in tactical gear stepped out, holding assault rifles. And from the center vehicle stepped Marcus Vance.

He was impeccably dressed in a tailored wool coat, unbothered by the freezing mountain air. He looked exactly like the monster Emily had described—handsome, calculated, and terrifyingly calm.

"The van," Emily breathed in horror, pulling the baby tight against her chest. "The hospital delivery van. It must have had a GPS fleet tracker on it."

I cursed myself for being so stupid. Of course a commercial van would have a tracker.

A loud megaphone crackled to life outside.

"Emily, darling," Marcus's voice echoed through the trees, smooth and utterly devoid of empathy. "It’s been a long time. You look well, considering you just gave birth. I must say, your choice in hiding spots is incredibly cliché."

"David, you have to hide," Emily panicked, pushing me toward the back room. "He doesn't care about you. He'll kill you just for being here."

"I am not leaving you," I growled, looking around the room for a weapon. I grabbed a heavy iron fire poker from the hearth. It wasn't much against assault rifles, but I would die before I let them touch my family.

"We don't have much time, Emily," Marcus called out. "Julian's condition is deteriorating. We need the infant's stem cells immediately. Send the husband out with the baby. If you do that, I will let you both walk away. You have my word. If you refuse, my men will burn this cabin to the ground with all three of you inside."

"He's lying," Emily whispered to me. "If we give him the baby, he'll kill us anyway to tie up loose ends."

I knew she was right. We were trapped. There was no back door, no underground tunnel this time.

I looked at the heavy propane tank sitting next to the kitchen stove. Then I looked at the box of matches on the counter. A desperate, insane plan formed in my mind.

"Emily," I said softly. "Take the baby and get into the cast-iron bathtub. Pull the heavy mattress over the top of it. Do not come out, no matter what you hear."

"David, what are you doing?" she cried.

"I'm going to introduce myself to your ex-husband," I said, my eyes cold.

I waited until she was safely barricaded in the bathroom. Then, I walked over to the stove. I turned the valve on the propane tank all the way open, letting the invisible, highly flammable gas begin to fill the kitchen.

I grabbed the fire poker, walked to the heavy steel front door, and unlocked the deadbolt.