Chapter 4 - The Pillow in the Policeman’s Hands
Malcolm was drowning without water.
Every instinct in his body demanded air.
There was none.
His fractured ribs made resistance almost impossible. His fingers clawed at the pillow, but Voss had strength, leverage, and rage.
The heart monitor shrieked.
Voss pushed harder.
Malcolm thought of his daughter.
Then his grandchildren.
Then strangely, Route 17.
He remembered sunrise through the windshield.
Passengers climbing aboard.
“Morning, Mr. Avery.”
He remembered the retirement cake.
The ridiculous hat Darnell had given him.
He did not want a hospital ceiling to be the last thing he ever saw.
He forced his right arm upward.
Voss cursed.
Then something changed.
The pressure stopped increasing.
Voss froze.
Malcolm couldn't understand why.
Then Voss slowly lifted his head.
A tiny red point of light rested against his forehead.
Another appeared across his shoulder.
Then another across his chest.
Voss's eyes widened.
The door exploded inward.
“FEDERAL AGENTS!”
Voss released the pillow.
Air rushed into Malcolm's lungs.
He coughed violently beneath the oxygen mask.
“Hands!”
Voss turned.
Three agents filled the doorway.
Mercer stood behind them.
Weapons raised.
“Step away from the bed!”
Voss looked from one agent to another.
His confidence disappeared.
“I'm a police officer.”
Ruiz advanced.
“Not tonight.”
“There's been a misunderstanding.”
Mercer stared at the pillow.
Then Malcolm.
Then Voss.
“We heard everything.”
Voss's face changed.
For the first time, Malcolm saw genuine fear.
“You were recording?”
Malcolm barely managed the words.
“They knew.”
Voss looked toward the hidden phone.
Ruiz moved forward.
“Hands behind your head.”
Voss hesitated.
Every laser remained steady.
Slowly, he raised his hands.
The pillow fell.
Ruiz forced him against the wall and handcuffed him.
Voss suddenly laughed.
“You think this changes anything?”
Mercer stepped closer.
“It changes your evening.”
“You have no idea what you're dealing with.”
“We're beginning to.”
Voss looked at Malcolm.
“You're dead anyway.”
Mercer's expression hardened.
“Get him out.”
Agents dragged Voss into the hallway.
Malcolm closed his eyes.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Mercer approached.
“You stayed with us.”
Malcolm opened his eyes.
“You took your time.”
Despite everything, Mercer almost smiled.
Then Malcolm's monitor changed.
The smile vanished.
Doctors rushed inside.
Mercer was pushed aside.
Malcolm heard voices.
“Pressure dropping.”
“Get respiratory.”
“Mr. Avery, stay with me.”
The room faded again.
But this time Malcolm wasn't afraid.
Voss had been caught.
Dayne would follow.
Or so Malcolm believed.
At 2:30 the next morning, Mercer received a call.
Her expression darkened.
“What?”
Ruiz watched her.
“When?”
She hung up.
“What happened?”
Mercer stared through the hospital window.
“Captain Dayne is gone.”
“Gone where?”
“His house is empty.”
Ruiz swore.
Mercer continued.
“So is his office.”
“He ran.”
“No.”
She looked toward Room 408.
“He knew we were coming.”
That meant someone had warned him.
Again.
But this time, the leak couldn't have come from local police.
The operation surrounding Room 408 had been federal.
Mercer slowly turned toward Ruiz.
“We have a leak.”
And suddenly the trap that had saved Malcolm Avery became evidence of something much more dangerous.
May you like
Captain Dayne's empire reached farther than anyone had imagined.
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