Chapter 7 - The Fugitives of the State and the Baltimore Connection
The green glow of the offline laptop illuminated the tense, silent room as General McCallum’s words hung heavily in the air like poison gas.
Maya didn't flinch. She simply clicked save on the encrypted micro-drive, unplugged the small device, and slipped it back into the inner lining of her tactical vest.
"A kill-or-capture order," Maya repeated, a dark, humorless smile touching the corners of her mouth.
"Because telling the truth about an illegal arms deal is more dangerous to the administration than the men who sold the weapons."
"Precisely," McCallum nodded grimly, walking over to the desk and tapping the screen displaying Julian Vance’s promissory note.
"The executive branch has deep financial ties to Vance Logistics through a network of super-PACs. If the public finds out that our defense department is financed by Viktor Vance's narcotics and arms cartel, the entire government will collapse."
Evelyn sank back down into the leather armchair, her hands covering her face as dry, racking sobs finally broke through her frozen composure.
"My husband... my son... my entire life," Evelyn wept softly.
"It was all built on a foundation of sand."
Maya looked down at the older woman, a complex wave of emotions washing over her—anger, sorrow, and a strange, grudging respect for a mother who had been just as much a victim of Arthur’s deception as Echo Squad had been of his treason.
"We can't stay in this safehouse," Maya said, turning her attention back to General McCallum.
"The moment the Pentagon tracks our encrypted satellite ping, a strike team will be through that blast door within the hour."
"Which is why we're moving immediately," McCallum agreed, reaching into his pocket and tossing a set of civilian car keys onto the desk.
"Take my unmarked sedan. It’s parked in the secondary egress tunnel. It has diplomatic plates that bypass state police checkpoints."
"Where are we going?" Maya asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Baltimore," McCallum replied.
"If Julian Vance’s signature is on that promissory note, then Julian knows where Viktor’s domestic server farm is hidden. And if we want to expose this syndicate before the military police execute that kill-order, we need Julian Vance to talk."
Ten minutes later, the armored bunker doors hissed shut behind them as Maya and Evelyn slipped out into the freezing D.C. night, sliding into the dark sedan parked in the underground egress tunnel.
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As the vehicle’s engine roared to life and they sped northward toward the Baltimore harbor under the cover of diplomatic immunity, Maya checked the magazine of her sidearm.
The war hadn't just reached the Pentagon; it was about to hit the docks where the empire of the Vances bled into the Atlantic.
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