Then, a sudden, blinding light flared from the second-story windows of the cannery.

A siren began to wail, a deafening shriek that echoed off the water.

The enforcers inside scrambled backward, startled by the noise.

“Go,” I whispered into my collar.

Before the word had fully left my lips, the headlights of two massive security trucks flared to life from the tree line.

They boxed in Sterling’s SUVs, blocking any hope of escape.

Sterling spun around, his face contorted in sudden panic.

Eleanor reached for the door of the SUV, but it was already locked from the inside.

Marco’s men emerged from the shadows, rifles raised.

“Drop your weapons!” Marco’s voice boomed through a megaphone.

The enforcers froze, caught in the crossfire of several high-powered laser sights.

One of the enforcers made a movement toward his holster.

A single, sharp crack echoed through the night.

The man fell to his knees, clutching his shoulder.

The remaining guards slowly raised their hands.

I stepped out from behind the shipping container, walking slowly toward the center of the yard.

My boots clicked on the wet gravel.