Chapter 6 - THE RED COAT
The main cellblock of Sector 4 was pure chaos.
The alarms blared continuously, bathing the tiered walkways in flashing red light. The inmates, sensing the collapse of authority, were rattling the bars, screaming as smoke filtered through the ventilation shafts.
Vincent moved with lethal efficiency, leading Elias and Officer Davis through the lower level. He wore the black tactical helmet and vest he had stripped from the downed mercenary, blending in perfectly with the shadows.
“Armory is at the end of the hall!” Davis shouted over the din, pointing toward a heavy reinforced steel door.
Suddenly, the upper tier catwalk exploded.
Three of Sterling’s mercenaries breached the second floor, raining suppressive fire down into the cellblock. The concrete pillars around Vincent shattered into dust and shrapnel.
“Cover!” Vincent roared, shoving Elias and Davis behind a solid steel stairwell.
Vincent didn't hide. He returned fire in calculated, precise bursts, forcing the mercenaries to duck for cover. He moved up the stairs with terrifying speed, a ghost in the flashing red lights. He engaged the three men in brutal, close-quarters combat, disarming the first and using him as a human shield before incapacitating the other two with swift, non-lethal strikes to the joints. He needed information, not bodies.
Vincent dropped to one knee, grabbing the lead mercenary by the tactical vest.
He ripped a small, heavy duffel bag off the man’s shoulder. It bore the insignia of Sterling’s private security firm.
Vincent unzipped the bag, expecting to find extra ammunition or breaching charges.
Instead, he pulled out a tiny, bright red winter coat.
Vincent’s heart stopped.
It was Maya’s coat. The one she had been wearing the night she was taken.
“Why do you have this?” Vincent demanded, pressing his forearm against the mercenary’s throat. “Where is she?!”
The mercenary coughed blood, smiling a sick, broken smile. “You’re too late, Moretti. We didn't come to the prison to kill you. We came to pack up the safehouse. Miller’s Ridge is empty.”
Escalation. The mercenaries hadn't just arrived to stage a riot. They had already moved Maya. The address Elias had provided was useless.
“Where did you take her?” Vincent snarled, pressing harder.
“Sterling has her,” the merc gasped. “You’ll never find her.”
Vincent let the man drop unconscious. He stared at the small red coat, his hands trembling. The one lead he had was gone. Sterling was always one step ahead.
But as Vincent looked closely at the inner lining of the tiny red coat, a sudden, fierce realization washed over him.
He reached his fingers into a tiny, custom-sewn pocket near the collar.
He pulled out a small, flat black disc. It was the size of a coin, blinking with a microscopic green light.
Reversal.
Sterling hadn't outsmarted him. Vincent had outsmarted Sterling.
Months ago, before his wife was murdered, Vincent had sensed they were being watched. He had meticulously sewn military-grade GPS trackers into his daughter’s favorite clothes, knowing she would never leave the house without them.
“Maya,” Vincent whispered, pulling a modified tactical smartwatch from the mercenary’s wrist. He synced the tracker’s frequency to the screen.
A glowing red dot appeared on the digital map.
Vincent’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief.
The dot wasn't miles away in Washington. It wasn't driving down a highway.
The dot was pulsing steadily, less than three hundred yards away.
“Davis!” Vincent yelled down to the stairwell. “Where does the administration block connect to this building?”
“Through the east wing!” Davis shouted back. “Why?”
May you like
Vincent stared at the blinking screen. “Because my daughter isn't missing. Sterling brought her inside the prison.”
The ultimate trap had been set. Sterling was waiting in the Director's visiting suite, and he had brought the one thing Vincent would willingly walk into hell for.
