Chapter One Hundred And Seventy Eight
The heavy armored SUV moved through the wet, winding streets of Manchester with a terrifyingly smooth speed. Inside the windowless, leather-lined cabin, the silence was absolute, broken only by the low, muffled hum of the powerful engine and the sound of Chase’s soft, uneven breathing against my neck. I rocked my little boy gently in my arms, my eyes wide in the semi-darkness, staring blankly at the polished partition that separated us from the silent drivers upfront. Every single instinct in my body was screaming at me to fight, to scream, to kick the reinforced glass, but the image of the shattered phone on the wet asphalt and the memory of the cold, dead eyes of the Al-Mansour operatives kept me completely pinned to the seat. I had to stay calm. Fo
