Chapter 7 - The Father's Lie
I stared at the highly classified nuclear blueprints with absolute, undeniable horror.
My father had told our entire family that he was merely a civilian structural engineer for a corporate firm.
He had lied to all of us for his entire life.
He was actually a high-level government contractor with access to the nation's most critical defense secrets.
"If the Vargas Syndicate gets their hands on these schematics, they could sell them to foreign enemies for billions," Sloane realized aloud.
"That is exactly why they used a fake real estate shell company to buy the cabin," I explained.
"They didn't care about Victor's petty debts."
"They manipulated Brianna and Victor just to get legal access to the property so they could dig this up."
I carefully placed the blueprints and the encrypted hard drive into my secure tactical bag.
"We need to hand this over to the Department of Defense immediately," I said.
Suddenly, the distinct sound of a heavy helicopter rotor began thumping aggressively over the roof of the cabin.
I rushed to the window and peered through the dusty glass panes.
A sleek, unmarked black helicopter was landing roughly in the clearing just fifty yards away.
"Is that your military backup?" Sloane asked, looking incredibly relieved.
"I didn't call for any aerial support," I replied, drawing my weapon again.
Six heavily armed men wearing completely unmarked tactical gear jumped out of the chopper.
They moved with terrifying, precise military synchronization.
These were not sloppy cartel thugs; these were highly trained professional mercenaries.
"Get down into the crawlspace right now," I ordered Sloane, pushing her toward the open floorboard.
Sloane did not argue and quickly slipped into the dark cavity beneath the floor.
I kicked the heavy oak plank back into place, hiding her completely from sight.
The front door of the cabin exploded inward as a heavy breaching charge shattered the frame.
I took cover behind the massive stone fireplace and fired three warning shots toward the entryway.
The mercenaries immediately returned fire, absolutely shredding the wooden walls and antique furniture with automatic weapons.
"Captain Calder, stand down!" a voice boomed over a portable loudspeaker outside.
"We are a private recovery team hired by the Department of Defense."
I did not lower my weapon for a single second.
"If you are DOD, state your authentic clearance code!" I shouted back.
The men outside paused their aggressive gunfire.
"Your father stole those files from the Pentagon ten years ago," the voice yelled.
"He was a traitor, and we are here to retrieve the stolen assets."
My heart hammered wildly against my ribs.
My father was not a traitor.
He was a man who believed in building strong walls to protect people.
"You are lying," I shouted.
"If the DOD wanted this, they would have sent official federal agents, not unmarked ghosts."
"Suit yourself, Captain," the voice sighed.
May you like
A small, metallic cylinder bounced through the broken doorway and landed directly at my feet.
It was a highly lethal, military-grade incendiary grenade.
