Chapter 4 - The Betrayal
Daniel stared at the photograph, his mind completely unable to process the horrifying image.
Joe was the old, kind mechanic who had taught Daniel everything he knew about fixing engines.
Joe had taken Daniel in when he was just a grieving teenager, treating him like his own biological son.
The realization that his mentor was deeply involved in his father's brutal murder felt like a physical knife in the chest.
Daniel crumpled the photograph in his fist, a profound, burning rage entirely replacing his fear.
He looked at Sarah, who was growing dangerously pale from the continuous blood loss.
He knew they could not stay in the freezing shipping container, or she would absolutely go into shock.
He gently lifted her into the passenger seat and took control of the steering wheel.
He carefully backed the gray sedan out of the container and drove toward the forgotten industrial outskirts of the city.
There was an old, abandoned veterinary clinic that Joe used to use for illegal dog fights decades ago.
Daniel knew the building had old medical supplies and was entirely off the police grid.
They arrived at the decaying clinic, forcing the rusted front doors open with a heavy crowbar.
The interior was covered in thick dust, but the emergency medical cabinets in the back were surprisingly intact.
Daniel found medical staples, heavy bandages, and a bottle of strong industrial antiseptic.
He forced Sarah to drink a small bottle of old whiskey to dull the excruciating pain.
He worked quickly and methodically, stapling the bullet wound shut and wrapping it tightly in clean gauze.
Sarah passed out from the intense pain, leaving Daniel completely alone in the dark, silent clinic.
He sat on the cold floor, pulling the small brass key from his pocket and staring at it.
He realized that Joe had given him the heavy steel box ten years ago, claiming it was his father's only inheritance.
Joe had purposely hidden the ledger with Daniel, using the young boy as a blind, unknowing vault.
Daniel stood up, his eyes burning with a dark, terrifying need for absolute vengeance.
He walked out to the car and retrieved his heavy steel wrench from the floorboard.
He was going to find Joe and force the old man to confess everything before he ended his miserable life.
Suddenly, the clinic's ancient, disconnected rotary phone sitting on the reception desk began to ring loudly.
Daniel froze completely, knowing the building's phone lines had been physically cut over twenty years ago.
He slowly walked over to the desk and picked up the heavy plastic receiver.
A digitally altered, robotic voice whispered through the static, telling Daniel to look out the front window.
Daniel crept toward the dirty glass and peered out into the dark, rainy parking lot.
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A sleek black limousine was parked directly in front of their stolen sedan.
Standing in the pouring rain, holding a massive umbrella, was Elias Thorne himself.
