Chapter 8 - Alliances in the DarkA dark sedan idled inside an underground parking garage three blocks from the precinct.
Derrick sat in the rear seat, his wrists free from handcuffs, rubbing the red marks left by the steel. Across from him sat Victoria Vance—his lead legal strategist—and Special Agent Frank Mercer of the FBI's Organized Crime Division.
"We intercepted Miller's precinct transmission thirty minutes ago," Mercer said, opening a laptop on his knees. "Julian's lawyers tried to have you transferred to the County Jail, where two of his associates were already placed in the same cell block."
"A hit," Derrick said flatly.
"A cheap one," Victoria added, passing Derrick a bottle of water and a secure satellite phone. "Your brother is getting desperate, Derrick. The federal prosecutor signed the grand jury indictments for Apex Logistics an hour ago. Julian knows that if those ledgers hit the federal network, his entire empire collapses by noon."
Derrick took a long drink of water, his eyes fixed on the laptop screen displaying real-time traffic camera feeds near Metropolitan General.
Suddenly, his eyes narrowed. "Zoom in on Camera 14—the hospital parking garage exit."
Mercer hit three keys. The image zoomed in on a dark sedan pulling out into the freezing rain.
Derrick recognized the license plate instantly. "Maya..."
"She left the hospital?" Victoria asked, surprised. "She had severe trauma—"
"She went to First National," Derrick said, his voice dropping into a tense, terrifying tone. "She retrieved Box 402."
Mercer checked his encrypted radio traffic. "Derrick, if she has that hard drive, Julian's trackers will pick up her location the second she gets near a cell tower. He has rogue technicians monitoring the downtown network hubs."
Derrick grabbed his dark coat from the seat beside him. "Where is she heading?"
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"Based on the street camera vectors," Mercer replied, scanning the map, "she's driving straight toward the 4th Avenue construction site."
Derrick checked the magazine of his concealed firearm, clicking it smoothly back into the grip. "Get your tactical team ready, Mercer. Julian isn't just trying to cover his tracks anymore. He's going to the site to burn the physical servers."
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