Chapter 4 - THE ROSARY OF TRUTH
The heavy boots stopped just outside the steel door.
Vincent didn't panic. He knelt on the floor, turning his back to the dead Warden, and felt for the brass master key with his bound fingers. He gripped the cold metal, twisting his wrists with agonizing flexibility to slide the key into the heavy iron handcuffs.
Click.
The cuffs fell away.
Vincent grabbed the suppressed pistol Hayes had dropped. He reached down and yanked the silver pocket watch from the dead man’s wrist, slipping it into his pocket.
The doorknob turned.
Vincent flattened himself against the wall behind the door.
A guard stepped inside, holding a radio. He looked down at the Warden’s body. “Target is down,” the guard whispered into his radio. “But Moretti is missing.”
Before the guard could raise his weapon, Vincent stepped out from the shadows. He delivered a brutal, precise strike to the back of the man's neck. The guard crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
Vincent stripped the guard of his radio and keycard, slipping out into the dimly lit maintenance corridor.
He had a mission. He needed to find Inmate 818.
Elias Thorne.
Elias was a former forensic accountant for Director Sterling. He was the only man alive who knew the physical addresses of Sterling’s black-site safehouses. Vincent had allowed himself to be arrested and sent to Blackridge for one reason: to extract Elias and find Maya.
Vincent moved like a ghost through the labyrinth of steam pipes and electrical panels. He bypassed two security checkpoints using the stolen keycard, dropping into the vast, humid expanse of the prison laundry room.
The room was filled with roaring industrial washing machines and clouds of hot steam.
Hiding behind a massive canvas cart of dirty uniforms was a small, frail man. He was clutching a wooden rosary to his chest, his eyes squeezed shut in prayer.
“Elias,” Vincent said, stepping through the steam.
The accountant jumped, terrified. “Moretti! You... you're alive. I heard the alarms. They said the Warden was dead.”
“He is,” Vincent said, keeping his voice low. “Sterling’s people are cleaning house. We need to leave. Now.”
Elias shook his head frantically, backing against the concrete wall. “I can't! If I leave, they’ll kill my son. Sterling took my boy, Vincent. He took him the same night he sent the hitmen to your house.”
Vincent froze.
He stared at the trembling accountant.
“What did you say?” Vincent demanded.
Elias broke down into heavy, racking sobs. “I gave them the access codes to your home security system, Vincent. I didn't want to! But Sterling held a gun to my son’s head. I let them into your house. I’m the reason Sarah is dead.”
The hot steam of the laundry room seemed to turn into ice.
Reversal. The man Vincent had risked everything to save—the whistleblower he thought was a hero—was the very traitor who had opened the door for his wife’s murderers.
Vincent raised the suppressed pistol, aiming it directly at Elias’s face. His finger hovered over the trigger. His heart pounded with a pure, blinding grief.
“Vincent, please,” Elias wept, holding up the wooden rosary. “I deserve to die. But if you kill me, you will never find Maya.”
Elias reached into his prison shirt with shaking hands. He pulled out a folded, crumpled piece of paper.
He held it out.
Vincent snatched it. He unfolded the paper.
It was a child’s drawing in bright pink crayons. A drawing of a house with a yellow door. It was unmistakably Maya’s artwork.
Vincent flipped it over. Written on the back in hurried ink was an address.
“She isn't in Washington,” Elias choked out. “Sterling didn't take her out of state. He’s hiding her in plain sight. She’s three miles from here, Vincent. In the old caretaker’s cabin on Miller’s Ridge.”
Before Vincent could process the location, a deafening siren ripped through the prison.
“CODE RED. FACILITY LOCKDOWN. ALL GUARDS TO SECTOR 4.”
The heavy steel doors of the laundry room suddenly shuddered. Someone was planting a breaching charge on the other side.
“They found us,” Elias panicked.
May you like
Vincent looked at the man who had betrayed his wife, then at the drawing of his daughter. He lowered the gun.
“Get behind me,” Vincent ordered.
