Chapter 8 - The Rail Yard
We reached the rail yard with twelve minutes to spare.
Old shipping containers. Rusted tracks. One working floodlight that made everything look sick and yellow.
Marcus parked two blocks away. We walked the rest.
I carried the drive in my jacket. The new gun felt heavier than the last one.
A single figure stood under the floodlight. Tall. Coat collar up. No sign of Tyler.
I stepped into the light. Marcus stayed in the shadows with a rifle he’d pulled from the trunk.
“Where’s my son?”
The man tilted his head. “Drive first.”
“You get nothing until I see him.”
A second figure walked out from between two containers. Smaller. A kid. Hoodie too big. Hands zip-tied in front.
Tyler.
My heart stopped and then slammed against my ribs.
“Dad?” His voice cracked.
I took a step forward. The tall man raised a hand.
“Easy. Drive on the ground. Then the boy walks.”
I pulled the hard drive out and held it up. “You hurt him and I burn this thing to ash.”
The tall man smiled without humor. “You won’t. You’re not built like that.”
I set the drive on the wet concrete and stepped back.
The man nodded. The second figure cut Tyler’s ties and gave him a shove.
Tyler ran. Straight at me. I dropped to one knee and caught him. He buried his face in my neck. He was shaking.
“I got you,” I whispered. “I got you.”
The tall man picked up the drive. Examined it. Then looked past me into the dark.
“You can come out now, Marcus. We know you’re there.”
Marcus stepped into the light, rifle lowered.
The tall man’s smile widened. “Good. Now we can finish this properly.”
Men stepped out from every container. Six of them. All armed.
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We were surrounded.
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