Chapter 6 - The Inside Man
Agent Harris aimed the suppressed pistol directly at my chest.
His eyes were completely devoid of any emotion or professional ethics.
"Julian pays exceedingly well, Clara," the corrupt federal agent stated flatly.
"Sign the confession, and I will ensure you get a comfortable cell in a white-collar prison."
I realized then just how deeply the rot of Julian's wealth had spread.
He had bought local police, building inspectors, and now a federal agent.
"If you kill me in a federal building, you will never get away with it," I warned him.
Harris just chuckled and cocked the hammer of his weapon.
"You are a desperate, fleeing fugitive who aggressively resisted arrest," he lied effortlessly.
I slowly picked up the pen, pretending I was completely defeated.
I moved my hand over the signature line of the fake confession document.
As I did, I aggressively threw the cup of scalding hot coffee directly into his face.
Harris screamed in unexpected agony, dropping the weapon as he clawed at his burning eyes.
I did not hesitate for a single second.
I grabbed the heavy metal chair and smashed it into his knees, sending him crashing to the floor.
I snatched his security keycard from his belt and sprinted out of the room.
The federal building was eerily quiet at three in the morning.
I swiped the card at the nearest emergency stairwell and ran up three flights of stairs.
I found the main server room and locked the heavy steel door behind me.
I quickly logged into a terminal using the credentials printed on Harris's badge.
I attached the digital audio files from my diamond necklace to a massive email blast.
I sent the undeniable proof of Julian's crimes to every major news outlet in the country.
I also sent it directly to the Inspector General in Washington.
Red warning lights suddenly flashed in the hallway outside the glass server room window.
Julian’s corrupt contacts inside the building had triggered the lockdown alarm.
I sat on the floor, heavily exhausted, waiting for the inevitable confrontation.
The heavy steel door was suddenly blown open with a massive tactical charge.
Dozens of armed men flooded into the room, pointing automatic rifles at my head.
But they were not wearing FBI jackets.
They were wearing the insignia of the United States Marshals Service.
May you like
A tall woman with silver hair walked through the smoke and looked down at me.
"Clara Vance, you are under arrest for the murder of your husband, Julian," she announced.
