Chapter 13 - The Choice at the Precipice
The tactical operative lunged forward, trying to close the distance before we could swing again, but the man in the black suit moved faster, striking the side of the man's helmet with the heavy brass corner of the leather briefcase. The operative slumped against the iron railing, sliding down the steps into unconsciousness.
"We have to move," the man said, grabbing my arm and pulling me up toward the roof hatch. "The rest of them are right behind."
We burst through the wooden hatch onto the flat, stone-paved roof of the lighthouse. The wind hit us like a physical blow, whipping my pinned-back hair loose and snapping the fabric of my red-and-white uniform against my legs. Below us, the gray water surged against the jagged rocks, and the tactical inflatable boat bobbed gently beside the rusted iron ladder, unmanned as its pilot had gone inside.
"The boat," I shouted over the roar of the wind, pointing down the sheer face of the stone wall.
"Too slow," the man said, dropping the briefcase onto the roof and turning to face the stair hatch as the first shouts of the pursuing team echoed just below the roofline. "If we take the boat, they'll intercept us before we clear the bay. We need a clean break."
"What are you saying?" I asked, stepping closer to him on the precipice of the roof, the cold spray of the river stinging my face.
"I'm saying we end it here," he replied, his hand reaching out to take mine, his fingers interlacing with mine with absolute, unbreakable certainty. "Not running. Not hiding. We leave the briefcase for them to find, and we take the leap."
I looked down at the dark, churning water fifty feet below, then up into his dark, steady eyes. The fear that had defined my life for the past three years suddenly evaporated, replaced by a profound, terrifying freedom.
"Together?" I asked, my voice steady against the gale.
May you like
"Together," he answered.
As the heavy roof hatch burst open behind us, revealing the dark silhouettes of our pursuers, we stepped off the edge of the stone roof together, plunging cleanly into the cold, gray embrace of the river below.
