Chapter 6 - THE SIEGE AT MONTAUK
The world seemed to spin out of control. My phone slipped through my numb fingers, bouncing off the hard floor.
“Andrew!” Marcus barked, grabbing my shoulder and shaking me back to reality. “What happened?”
“Sophia...” I choked out, my chest heaving as pure panic seized my lungs. “She took Valerie. She breached the estate.”
Marcus didn't waste a single second. He pulled out his radio, calling his private security team while simultaneously dialing the Suffolk County Sheriff's Department. “Code Red at the Salgado estate! Abduction in progress! Deploy all units to the Montauk corridor!”
I sprinted out of Dr. Sterling’s house into the torrential rain, throwing myself into the driver’s seat of my SUV. Marcus jumped into the passenger seat, slapping an emergency blue strobe light onto the dashboard.
I slammed my foot on the accelerator, the heavy engine roaring as the vehicle tore out of the driveway, tires screaming against the wet asphalt.
“Where would she take her?” Marcus demanded over the blare of the siren, his eyes scanning a GPS tracking map on his tablet. “Sophia knows we have Sterling. She knows the murder charge is coming. She’s not trying to hide anymore—she’s trying to escape!”
“The marina,” I realized suddenly, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Sophia’s family owns a private eighty-foot yacht docked at the Montauk Deep Sea Club! She’s trying to get into international waters before the coast guard can lock down the harbor!”
“I’m calling the Coast Guard right now,” Marcus said, rapidly typing on his phone. “Coordinates?”
“Pier 4, Montauk Harbor!” I yelled, pushing the SUV to ninety miles per hour down the dark, rain-slicked highway.
The twenty-minute drive felt like an eternity in hell. Every image of Valerie’s terrified face, every bruise on her small body, every memory of Elyse’s final moments flashed through my mind like a terrifying nightmare. Sophia had taken everything from me—my wife, my peace, my daughter’s childhood. I wasn't going to let her take Valerie’s life.
As we neared Montauk Harbor, the storm intensified. Heavy waves crashed over the concrete seawalls, sending spray across the road.
Ahead, near Pier 4, I spotted the silhouette of a massive white yacht—the Monarch—its engine diesel exhaust rising into the stormy night air. The gangway was still down, and two large men in dark raincoats were standing security at the edge of the dock.
“There!” I screamed, swerving the SUV around the harbor gate and crashing directly through the wooden security barrier.
The SUV slid to a halt just twenty yards from the dock. Marcus and I threw our doors open, stepping out into the driving rain.
“Police! Stay where you are!” Marcus bellowed, holding his badge in one hand and his firearm in the other.
The two hired thugs on the dock didn't hesitate—they drew weapons from under their coats and opened fire. Bullets shattered the windshield of my SUV. Marcus shoved me behind the engine block for cover, returning fire with lethal precision. Two sharp gunshots echoed through the storm, and both guards dropped to the wet wooden planks, disarmed and disabled.
I didn't wait for Marcus. I charged through the rain, sprinting up the slippery gangway of the yacht.
“Sophia!” I roared, my voice carrying over the thunder and crashing waves. “Sophia, bring my daughter out!”
I kicked open the heavy glass door leading into the yacht’s main salon.
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Standing near the stern steering station was Sophia. She was wearing a rain jacket, holding a marine flare gun loaded with a white-hot phosphorus cartridge. And strapped into a life vest beside her, her mouth covered with heavy duct tape, was Valerie.
“Step back, Andrew!” Sophia screamed, her voice bordering on complete madness, her eyes wide and bloodshot as she pointed the flare gun directly at Valerie’s head. “Step back or I swear to God I’ll burn her face off!”
