The Federal Agent Who Returned to Reclaim Her Shattered Home and Child
The rental car sped up, merging into the heavy traffic.
I looked in the rearview mirror, watching the silhouette of the mountains disappear.
I had to get to the safe house.
I had to analyze the recording.
And I had to find a way to get my daughter back before they broke her completely.
I turned off the highway onto a cracked asphalt road.
The warehouses on either side were dark.
I pulled up to a chain-link gate with a rusty lock.
I pressed the remote transmitter hidden under my dashboard.
The gate swung open slowly.
I drove through and parked in the shadows.
I took my duffel bag and walked to the metal side door.
I punched in the twelve-digit security code.
The lock clicked.
I stepped into the dark room.
The smell of dust and electronic equipment greeted me.
I flipped a switch, and a bank of monitors flickered to life.
The screens glowed with blue light, illuminating the concrete walls.
I plugged my phone into the main terminal.
The audio file of Grant and Vanessa began to process.
I sat down in the steel chair.