Chapter 4 - The Ghost of the Past
I stood completely frozen in the snow, staring at the ghost of the man who supposedly died five years ago.
"You are supposed to be at the bottom of the ocean," I whispered in disbelief.
Alexander offered a sad, regretful smile as he ushered me into the warm back seat of the armored SUV.
"Constance rigged my boat to explode because she knew my father planned to leave the entire company to me," he explained as the driver sped away.
He handed me a thermos of hot tea and a dry blanket for the baby.
"I survived the blast, but I knew if I returned, she would just try to kill me again."
I wrapped the warm blanket around my son, finally allowing myself to stop shivering.
"Why didn't you go to the police with the truth?" I asked him softly.
"Because Constance owns the local police, the judges, and the politicians," he replied grimly.
He explained that he had spent the last five years building an untouchable federal case against her from the shadows.
"When I found out she used my stolen genetic material to impregnate you, I knew I had to step out of the dark."
He looked down at the sleeping baby with an expression of pure, unadulterated love.
"I will never let Constance or my brother touch either of you ever again."
We arrived at a massive, heavily fortified concrete safehouse hidden deep within the mountains.
The interior was filled with computer servers, monitors, and stacks of financial documents mirroring my own hidden evidence.
I felt a sudden rush of hope that this nightmare might finally be coming to an end.
I placed the baby gently into a warm bassinet near a crackling fireplace.
Alexander walked over and handed me a secure, encrypted satellite phone.
"We need to combine your evidence with mine and send it to the Director of the FBI tonight," he said.
Before I could plug my flash drive into the server, the lights inside the safehouse abruptly flickered and died.
A blaring proximity alarm suddenly shattered the peaceful silence of the room.
May you like
Alexander rushed to the window and pulled back the heavy steel curtain.
Dozens of red laser sights from sniper rifles pierced through the darkness, painting the walls of our living room.
