Suddenly headlights appeared behind us.
Three black SUVs.
Moving fast.
Matthew cursed.
“They found us.”
The chase that followed felt unreal.
Rain exploded across the windshield while black vehicles pursued us through Manhattan traffic.
Gunfire erupted again.
Drivers screamed.
Cars swerved.
Matthew cut violently through intersections toward Lower Manhattan.
“Where are we going?” I shouted.
“Somewhere Atlas can’t reach quickly.”
That answer terrified me.
Then another bullet shattered the side mirror.
The little girl cried harder.
Eleanor held her tightly.
Rachel looked pale.
“We are absolutely going to die.”
But Matthew’s face changed suddenly.
Focused.
Determined.
Like a man making peace with something.
He turned toward me briefly.
“If anything happens, get the drive to the Times.”
“No.”
“Olivia—”
“No.”
Because despite everything…
I couldn’t watch him die.
Not yet.
Not like this.
Then suddenly Matthew slammed the brakes.
The SUV spun sideways beneath the Manhattan Bridge.
Ahead stood armored federal vehicles.
Dozens.
FBI tactical teams flooded the street.
Mercer stepped forward calmly through the rain.
Weapons aimed directly at us.
“You’re out of options,” he announced.
Matthew laughed quietly.
“You really think this ends with me?”
Mercer’s eyes shifted toward me.
“That depends on your wife.”
Then Mercer smiled.
And suddenly I understood.
This had never been about Matthew alone.
It was about the flash drives.
About me.
And about whoever controlled the truth surviving long enough to bury it.
Mercer raised his weapon.
“Last chance.”
Matthew looked at me one final time.
Then whispered:
“Trust me.”
And before I could react—
He hit the accelerator directly toward the barricade.
Gunfire exploded everywhere.
PART 7 — THE NIGHT ATLAS FELL
Bullets tore through the SUV.
Glass exploded.
Metal screamed.
Rachel ducked over the child while Eleanor cried out beside her.
But Matthew never slowed down.
