Chapter 17 - THE HARBOR PIER
"She's heading for Sector 4!" Elowen warned the lead prosecutor, remembering the foreign voice from the burner phone call the night before. "The harbor pier—she has a transport team waiting!"
Outside, rain lashed against the granite steps of the courthouse. Nora’s silver panel van pulled up to the curb with its tires screeching, and Elowen slid into the passenger seat alongside the federal strike team trailing in two black SUVs.
"She won't get on that boat," Nora said grimly, slamming her foot onto the accelerator as the van roared toward the industrial shipping docks. "Federal marshals have already locked down the marina, but she’s running on pure desperation."
Ten minutes later, the silver van screeched to a halt at the edge of Pier 12.
The sky above the harbor was dark grey, churning with rain-laden storm clouds. At the end of the wooden pier, a sleek, unmarked dark yacht idled near the pilings, its diesel engines churning the black water into white foam.
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Standing near the mooring lines, her hair plastered to her face by the ocean wind, was Mara Vance.
In her right hand, she clutched a heavy brass ignition key to the yacht's manual emergency engine bypass, shouting frantically at two crewmen in dark jackets who were trying to push off from the pier before the flashing blue lights of incoming law enforcement arrived.
