Chapter 18 - Desperate Escape
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Six miles west of Newport, on the dark, wind-swept stretch of highway leading toward the Jamestown Verrazzano Bridge, the unmarked Rhode Island State Police cruiser carrying Vivien Morrow sped through the night at sixty-five miles an hour.
In the back seat behind the steel mesh partition, Vivien stared out the window with mascara smeared across her cheeks, her cuffed hands twisted painfully behind her back.
"Look at me, Detective," Vivien hissed at Lieutenant Reeves in the front passenger seat. "My father still knows half the federal bench in Boston. I want a phone call right now—not when we reach Wickford. Right now!"
Lieutenant Reeves didn't even turn around. "Save your breath for your arraignment, Miss Morrow."
Suddenly, as the cruiser entered the unlit causeway bordered by thick coastal marshland, a heavy black dump truck with blacked-out plates roared out of a maintenance access turnoff without its headlights on.
"Watch out!" Reeves shouted as the state trooper behind the wheel swerved violently to the left.
The dump truck clipped the rear quarter panel of the police cruiser, sending the sedan spinning three hundred and sixty degrees across the wet asphalt until it slammed backward into the steel guardrail. Steam hissed from the crushed radiator as the airbags deployed in the front cabin, momentarily stunning both officers.
In the back seat, Vivien let out a triumphant gasp as two men in black ski masks jumped out of a dark SUV following the dump truck and sprinted toward the wrecked cruiser with compact submachine guns in their hands.
"Julian sent them!" Vivien laughed hysterically, kicking at the rear door glass with her silver heels. "Over here! Get me out of this car!"
The lead gunman reached the rear window of the cruiser. He didn't reach for the door handle. Instead, he raised a suppressed nine-millimeter pistol and aimed the laser sight straight between Vivien’s eyes through the safety glass.
Vivien’s laugh died in her throat as she realized Julian Cross hadn't sent a rescue team—he had sent cleaners.
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Before the gunman could pull the trigger, two armored black Varelli SUVs crested the causeway at eighty miles an hour, high beams blinding the hit squad. The lead Varelli vehicle rammed the gunmen’s SUV straight into the marsh ditch while four of Carlo’s tactical guards stepped out behind ballistic door shields, firing precise bursts that dropped both masked gunmen onto the highway shoulder without killing them.
Thirty seconds later, backup state police sirens wailed from both ends of the bridge. Inside the wrecked cruiser, Vivien sat slumped against the seat, weeping hysterically and begging the stunned troopers to take her to prison where Julian Cross couldn't reach her.
