Jake's Fight

Jake Morrison's POV

Jake Morrison smashed through City Hall's back window just as bullets broke the glass around him.

He rolled across the floor and scrambled behind a fallen desk. Two of Webb's men were shooting at families outside while a third guarded the main stairs.

"Emma!" Jake shouted. "Where are you?"

His daughter's voice came from somewhere deep in the building, scared but alive. "Daddy! I'm in the basement! Mr. Webb is trying to find me!"

Jake's heart nearly stopped. His twelve-year-old daughter was stuck downstairs with a killer, and three armed men stood between them.

But Jake Morrison had spent fifteen years as a lawyer, and lawyers knew how to think fast under pressure.

The first gunman turned toward Jake's words. "Hey! There's someone in here!"

Jake grabbed a heavy law book from the floor and threw it across the room. It crashed into a file cabinet on the opposite side of the office. When the gunman spun toward the noise, Jake ran the other direction.

"Smart move, lawyer boy," Jake mumbled to himself as he slipped into the hallway. "Now think smarter."

Jake knew City Hall better than Webb's men did. He'd spent countless hours here as a kid, visiting his father who used to work for the city. The old building had been built in 1892, with confusing hallways, hidden storage rooms, and weird staircases that didn't go where you expected.

"Perfect," Jake whispered, heading for the service lift that most people didn't know existed.

Behind him, he could hear the shooters arguing.

"Where did he go?"

"Check the main stairs!"

"Boss wants everyone dead. No witnesses."

Jake pressed the elevator button and hoped it still worked. The ancient machine groaned to life, wires squeaking as it slowly climbed to the second floor.

When the doors opened, Jake was face to face with the third shooter.

"Gotcha!" the man yelled, raising his weapon.

But Jake was ready. He jumped forward, using his shoulder to knock the gunman backward into the wall. The gun flew from the man's hands and skittered across the floor.

"Sorry about this," Jake said, then punched the shooter as hard as he could.

The man fell to the ground, unconscious.

Jake grabbed the falling weapon, even though holding a gun made his hands shake. He'd never shot anyone in his life, but his daughter was in danger.

"Emma, I'm coming!" he called down the stairs.

That's when he heard Marcus Webb's voice echoing from the basement.

"Too late, Morrison. Your little girl has caused enough trouble. Time to clean up this mess."

Jake ran down the basement stairs three at a time, his heart racing with fear and rage. At the bottom, he saw Marcus Webb standing in the dark with his gun pointed at a pile of old boxes.

"Let her go, Webb," Jake ordered, pointing his own weapon at the fake FBI agent. "Your fight is with me."

Webb turned slowly, a cold smile on his face. "Jake Morrison. The failed lawyer who couldn't save anyone in Atlanta. Now you can't save your own daughter either."

"I said let her go."

"Or what? You'll shoot me?" Webb laughed. "You don't have the guts, Morrison. You're too soft. Too weak. That's why you lost that case in Atlanta. That's why innocent people died because of your mistakes."

Jake's hands shook. Webb was right about Atlanta. Jake had trusted the wrong evidence, made the wrong arguments, and an innocent man had gone to jail where other inmates killed him.

"That's different," Jake said. "I was trying to help people."

"And look how that turned out," Webb mocked. "Just like tonight. You're going to fail again, and everyone you care about is going to die because of it."

But then Jake heard something that gave him strength.

"Daddy, don't listen to him!" Emma's voice came from behind the boxes. "You're not weak! You came back to save our town! You're the bravest person I know!"

Jake felt his confidence return. His daughter was right. He had come back to Millbrook to make things right. He had uncovered Webb's crimes and helped Maya reveal the truth.

"You know what, Webb?" Jake said, steadying his aim. "You're wrong about me. I'm not the same man who failed in Atlanta. I'm a father protecting his child."

Webb's smile faded. "Big words, Morrison. But can you back them up?"

"Emma, when I say run, you head for that door behind you," Jake whispered loudly enough for his daughter to hear.

"I'm not leaving you, Daddy!"

"Yes, you are. Trust me."

Jake took a deep breath and made the biggest risk of his life.

"Run, Emma! Now!"

Emma Morrison burst from behind the boxes and raced toward the far door. Webb spun to shoot her, which was exactly what Jake had hoped for.

Jake hit Webb from the side, and both men crashed into a pile of old furniture. Webb's gun went flying into the darkness.

"You ruined everything!" Webb growled, throwing punches at Jake's head and chest.

Jake fought back fiercely, but Webb was stronger and more experienced. Soon Jake was pinned on the ground with Webb's hands around his throat.

"Should have minded your own business, lawyer," Webb hissed.

Jake's vision was beginning to go black when Emma reappeared with a metal pipe in her hands.

"Get away from my daddy!" she yelled, throwing the pipe at Webb's head.

Webb dodged the blow and grabbed Emma's arm. "Stupid girl!"

But the delay was enough. Jake rolled away and grabbed Webb's dropped gun.

"It's over, Webb," Jake panted, pointing the weapon at the killer.

Webb looked at Jake, then at Emma, then at the gun. Slowly, he raised his hands.

"Maybe," Webb said with a twisted smile. "But this house is surrounded by my men. You'll never get out alive."

That's when Emma held up a small brass key.

"Yes we will, Daddy," she said proudly. "I found the key to the old Civil War caves. Grandpa Morrison told me about them last summer. They run under the whole downtown area."

Jake stared at his daughter in wonder. "Emma, you're brilliant."

"The entrance is behind that bookshelf," Emma explained, pointing to an old wooden cabinet. "I already moved it while you two were fighting."

Jake could see a narrow opening hidden behind the furniture, with stone steps leading down into darkness.

"Underground tunnels," Jake muttered. "Of course. This building is old enough."

They could hear Webb's men pounding down the basement stairs, shouting directions to each other.

"Go, Emma!" Jake commanded. "I'm right behind you!"

Emma vanished into the tunnel entrance. Jake took one last look at Marcus Webb, who was now grinning like a madman.

"Enjoy the tunnels, Morrison," Webb called out. "I hope you can swim."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jake demanded.

But Webb just laughed as Jake backed toward the tunnel opening.

Jake squeezed through the narrow doorway and found himself on steep stone steps that disappeared into full blackness. The air smelled damp and moldy, like it had been closed up for a hundred years.

"Emma, stay close to me," Jake called out.

"I'm right here, Daddy."

They climbed down the old steps, using Jake's phone flashlight to see. The tunnel was narrow and low, carved straight through rock and clay. Jake had to duck his head to avoid hitting the roof.

After five minutes of walking, they heard something that made Jake's blood run cold.

A rushed, roaring sound echoing through the tunnels ahead of them.

Water. Lots of it.

"Daddy," Emma whispered, "why is there water down here?"

Jake shined his light forward and saw their worst fear. Twenty feet ahead, the tunnel floor vanished under dark, fast-moving water that came up to the ceiling.

"The old storm drain system," Jake realized with fear. "All this rain we've had must have flooded the tunnels."

They were stuck underground with rising water behind them and armed killers above them.

Emma grabbed Jake's hand. "Daddy, I can't swim that well."

Jake looked at the rushing water blocking their escape route. The current looked strong enough to sweep them away, and they had no idea how long the flooded part lasted.

But behind them, they could hear Webb's men breaking through the basement, getting closer to the tunnel opening.

"We can't go back," Jake whispered.

"We can't go forward," Emma responded.

And then Jake heard the worst sound of all.

The water was rising.