Chapter 9 - The Safehouse
I drove the stolen delivery truck away from the airfield, keeping to the back roads.
My mother rested her head against the passenger window, her eyes closed in exhaustion.
“Where are we going now, Ethan?” she asked softly.
“To a safehouse,” I promised.
I drove toward the mountains, aiming for a remote cabin my father had purchased secretly before his death.
It was entirely off the grid, purchased under a fake corporate name that Arthur Sterling didn't know about.
We arrived just as the sun began to set behind the pine trees.
I helped my mother inside, settled her onto the couch, and built a fire in the hearth.
She fell asleep almost instantly, wrapped in a heavy wool blanket.
I walked into the kitchen and found the emergency supplies my father had hidden years ago.
There was a burner phone, a stack of untraceable cash, and a laptop connected to a satellite network.
I sat down at the wooden table and powered on the computer.
I hadn't been completely stupid at the airfield.
I had given Marcus the physical hard drive, but I had uploaded copies of every file to the cloud while waiting in Mr. Vance’s bank lobby.
I spent the next hour drafting a meticulous, detailed email to a contact I had at the Department of Justice.
I attached the financial records, the money laundering evidence, and the dashcam footage of my father’s murder.
I hit send, watching the progress bar fill until the encrypted message vanished into cyberspace.
The authorities would have the entire puzzle by morning.
Even if Marcus tried to run, the international warrants would flag him at whatever border he attempted to cross.
Claire and her father were either dead on that plane or severely wounded, their empire completely shattered.
I leaned back in the wooden chair and let out a long, shuddering breath.
I had done it.
I had protected my family’s legacy, saved my mother’s life, and avenged my father’s murder.
The heavy weight that had sat on my chest for four years finally lifted.
I walked over to the window, watching the rain gently hit the glass.
I was finally safe.
I turned around to go check on my mother in the living room.
May you like
Sitting in the armchair directly across from her sleeping body was a man holding a suppressed rifle.
It wasn't Marcus.
