Read Online The Inner Sanctum by Stephen Frey - Free Book Online
Authors: Stephen Frey
Tags: Fiction, General, Espionage, Mystery Fiction, New York (N.Y.), Business, Washington (D.C.), Bankers, Investment Banking, Securities Industry
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question that the predator was close.
Terror and the urge to scream suddenly overwhelmed her, but she managed to control the fear, realizing the odds were small anyone would hear her--except the pursuer. She stopped, leaned against the face of a large rock for a moment to suck in warm humid air, then pushed on.
Through the darkness and a break in the treetops the moon appeared, and then a bridge beneath the moon. It was the same bridge she had crossed on foot twenty minutes ago to get to the house after hiding the car. Only twenty minutes ago, but it seemed like hours now. She glanced up at the overpass, just a dark shape against a dark sky. The car was close, only a few hundred feet from the bridge.
She gripped the file tightly and jogged ahead. The bank was clear of foliage close to the bridge, and she was able to make progress more easily. She pressed her hand against her wet pants pocket and felt the car keys. Starting the engine might give away her position, but she would be gone before the pursuer could take advantage of it. And once she began driving, not even the fires of hell were going to stop her.
The air became cooler and slightly stale as she moved beneath the bridge. Moonlight shimmered off the water's surface, casting eerie, pale shadows on the cement. And just the slight sound of her footsteps on the rocks seemed to echo loudly inside the bridge.
Once out from under the bridge, she waded the stream and climbed the embankment. It was gently sloped on this side of Gull Road, and in seconds she had reached the top. She sprinted across a field of clover and slipped into the pine grove, then quickly located her Camaro. Frantically she pulled the keys from her pocket, inserted them into the lock, opened the door, and slipped behind the wheel. She patted the car's dashboard once gently, like an old friend, before thrusting the keys into the ignition.
The Camaro roared to life. She slammed the stick shift into first gear, let out the clutch, and punched the accelerator. The car leaped forward as she flicked on the lights. A sense of satisfaction gripped her as she yanked the stick back into second and hurtled down the rutted dirt path toward Gull Road. She could handle a performance vehicle as well as anyone. Her older brothers had seen to that.
As she guided the car between the pine rows, she reached for the leather gloves she had stuffed into her back pocket. She dug deeply and pulled one out, throwing it onto the seat beside her. Then she dug her hand in again searching for the other, but the pocket was empty. "Dammit!"
Gull Road rushed up to meet the dirt path. With both hands she jerked the steering wheel right, aiming the car away from Robinson's home--and the predator. The Camaro fishtailed slightly as dusty tires met asphalt, but she easily controlled the spin.
She flicked on the high beams and suddenly came face to face with her pursuer. He stood in the middle of the road, cap brim pulled down to his eyes, pointing a gun directly at her. Without hesitation Jesse thrust the stick forward into third gear and jammed the accelerator to the floor. But the figure didn't move, and she screamed as the Camaro hurtled toward him.
Sixty feet, fifty feet, forty. Roth waited until the last moment before pumping the clip's six remaining shells into the Camaro. The bullets ripped through the windshield, spraying shattered glass throughout the car's interior, then exploded out the back window.
As he fired the last bullet, Roth dove for the reeds at the side of the road, but he was an instant late and the Camaro's front left fender grazed his lower leg. The impact spun him through the air, separating the shoe from his foot. He landed heavily on his face and knee on the loose gravel at the edge of the asphalt. Despite the pain shooting through his cheek and up his leg, he lifted his head to check the license plate. But as the Camaro raced past, the lights suddenly dimmed.
Jesse rose up quickly from the passenger
Terror and the urge to scream suddenly overwhelmed her, but she managed to control the fear, realizing the odds were small anyone would hear her--except the pursuer. She stopped, leaned against the face of a large rock for a moment to suck in warm humid air, then pushed on.
Through the darkness and a break in the treetops the moon appeared, and then a bridge beneath the moon. It was the same bridge she had crossed on foot twenty minutes ago to get to the house after hiding the car. Only twenty minutes ago, but it seemed like hours now. She glanced up at the overpass, just a dark shape against a dark sky. The car was close, only a few hundred feet from the bridge.
She gripped the file tightly and jogged ahead. The bank was clear of foliage close to the bridge, and she was able to make progress more easily. She pressed her hand against her wet pants pocket and felt the car keys. Starting the engine might give away her position, but she would be gone before the pursuer could take advantage of it. And once she began driving, not even the fires of hell were going to stop her.
The air became cooler and slightly stale as she moved beneath the bridge. Moonlight shimmered off the water's surface, casting eerie, pale shadows on the cement. And just the slight sound of her footsteps on the rocks seemed to echo loudly inside the bridge.
Once out from under the bridge, she waded the stream and climbed the embankment. It was gently sloped on this side of Gull Road, and in seconds she had reached the top. She sprinted across a field of clover and slipped into the pine grove, then quickly located her Camaro. Frantically she pulled the keys from her pocket, inserted them into the lock, opened the door, and slipped behind the wheel. She patted the car's dashboard once gently, like an old friend, before thrusting the keys into the ignition.
The Camaro roared to life. She slammed the stick shift into first gear, let out the clutch, and punched the accelerator. The car leaped forward as she flicked on the lights. A sense of satisfaction gripped her as she yanked the stick back into second and hurtled down the rutted dirt path toward Gull Road. She could handle a performance vehicle as well as anyone. Her older brothers had seen to that.
As she guided the car between the pine rows, she reached for the leather gloves she had stuffed into her back pocket. She dug deeply and pulled one out, throwing it onto the seat beside her. Then she dug her hand in again searching for the other, but the pocket was empty. "Dammit!"
Gull Road rushed up to meet the dirt path. With both hands she jerked the steering wheel right, aiming the car away from Robinson's home--and the predator. The Camaro fishtailed slightly as dusty tires met asphalt, but she easily controlled the spin.
She flicked on the high beams and suddenly came face to face with her pursuer. He stood in the middle of the road, cap brim pulled down to his eyes, pointing a gun directly at her. Without hesitation Jesse thrust the stick forward into third gear and jammed the accelerator to the floor. But the figure didn't move, and she screamed as the Camaro hurtled toward him.
Sixty feet, fifty feet, forty. Roth waited until the last moment before pumping the clip's six remaining shells into the Camaro. The bullets ripped through the windshield, spraying shattered glass throughout the car's interior, then exploded out the back window.
As he fired the last bullet, Roth dove for the reeds at the side of the road, but he was an instant late and the Camaro's front left fender grazed his lower leg. The impact spun him through the air, separating the shoe from his foot. He landed heavily on his face and knee on the loose gravel at the edge of the asphalt. Despite the pain shooting through his cheek and up his leg, he lifted his head to check the license plate. But as the Camaro raced past, the lights suddenly dimmed.
Jesse rose up quickly from the passenger
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