Chapter 16 - The Judas Kiss
The trap was set, but we needed absolute confirmation that Victor had taken the bait. We got our answer from the most unlikely source imaginable: my mother.
Elias had been monitoring the recorded prison phone calls from the federal holding facility where my parents were rotting away. On Thursday evening, he played a heavily encrypted audio file for Marcus and me.
"Listen closely," Elias instructed, hitting the spacebar on his laptop.
The audio was scratchy, but the voices were unmistakable. It was my mother, speaking through the prison payphone to someone on the outside.
"Victor, please, you have to listen to me," my mother pleaded, her voice cracking with genuine terror.
"I am listening, Margaret," Victor’s cold, menacing voice replied. "Your lovely daughter Heather told me you stole my cut. But word on the street is that your other daughter, Sarah, is the one flying out of Blackwood Airfield tomorrow night with two million in cash."
"She is!" my mother shrieked desperately. "Sarah stole everything from us! She took the house, she took the money, and she framed us! If you go to that airfield, you can take it all, Victor. Just leave me and my husband alone. We didn't betray you!"
I listened to my own mother sell me out to a violent murderer just to save her own skin. Any lingering, microscopic shred of guilt I had about putting her behind bars instantly evaporated. She was completely dead to me.
"He bought it," Marcus said, his jaw clenched tight. "He is going to be at that airfield."
Elias closed the laptop and picked up his phone. He dialed a direct line to his former supervisor at the FBI’s violent crimes task force.
"Agent Miller? It's Elias Thorne. I have a confirmed location for a massive parole violation and an armed robbery conspiracy involving Victor Vance. I need a heavily armed tactical unit on standby at Blackwood Airfield tomorrow night at midnight."
The FBI, eager to put Victor back behind bars, immediately agreed. They had been trying to catch him violating his parole since the day he was released.
The stage was set. We were not going to fight Victor Vance with our bare hands. We were going to drop the full, crushing weight of the federal government directly onto his head.
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"You are not coming to the airfield, Sarah," Marcus told me firmly that night as we packed a small bag. "You and Mia are staying here in the panic room with the private security detail. Elias and I will handle this."
For once, I did not argue. I kissed my husband deeply and made him promise to come back to me.
