Chapter 3 - The Ghost from the Past
Marcus braced himself against the dashboard as the Charger drifted around a desert curve, leaving the burning garage miles behind them.
He looked over at the driver. The breath left his lungs.
"Elena?" Marcus whispered, staring at the sharp jawline and fierce dark eyes illuminated by the dashboard lights.
"You look like hell, Marcus," she said, shifting gears with vicious precision.
Elena was supposed to be dead. Seven years ago, when the Chicago heist went wrong, Vance’s men had trapped her car on a bridge. It had gone over the edge into the freezing river. Marcus had watched it happen. He had mourned her every single day.
"How?" Marcus asked, his mind spinning. "I saw the car go over."
"I got out before it hit the water," Elena said coldly, keeping her eyes on the road. "I knew Vance would never stop hunting us. If I survived, he would keep looking. I had to stay dead to keep you safe. And to figure out how to destroy him."
"And now you're back?"
"Because Vance found you," Elena said, glancing at him. "He cracked the encryption on an old offshore account you used to pay the lease on that garage. He knows about the drive, Marcus. He knows you have the digital ledger containing every politician, judge, and cartel boss he owns."
Marcus pulled the titanium drive from his boot. It felt heavier now. "Why come for it now? After seven years?"
"Because Vance is making a play to legitimize his empire," Elena explained. "He's partnering with a major defense contractor. If that drive gets into the hands of the FBI, his deal dies, and he goes to federal prison forever. He needs to erase his past."
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"So we give it to the feds," Marcus said.
"No," Elena hit the brakes, pulling the car into an abandoned gas station on the edge of the state line. "The feds are on his payroll. If we hand it over, we die. We have to use it. We have to blackmail the devil."
