Chapter 8 - The Confrontation
The SUVs sped away.
One remained.
Victor's van.
Engine idling.
The driver frantic.
Marcus dropped from the crane onto the hood.
Kicked through the windshield.
Driver down.
The van crashed into pallets.
Stopped.
I yanked the rear doors open.
Victor.
Trembling hand.
A revolver.
I grabbed the barrel.
Twisted it free.
Tossed it aside.
Victor slumped back. Breathing hard.
"You think you've won? My syndicate spans three continents. Even if I fall, my associates will hunt your children to the ends of the earth."
Sarah stepped up beside me.
Bruised.
Torn clothes.
Unbroken eyes.
She pulled out a satellite transmitter.
Connected to the drive.
"They won't hunt anyone, Victor. Thirty seconds ago, the moment Richard triggered the signal at the lighthouse, your entire ledger uploaded to Interpol, the FBI, and the DOJ."
Victor's face drained.
"You—you didn't—"
"Every shell company. Every corrupt judge. Every account in Panama, Zurich, the Caymans. By tomorrow, your network is frozen. You didn't just lose, Victor. You're erased."
Sirens wailed in the distance.
Federal cruisers.
Tactical units.
Marcus had called it in the moment we secured the ledger.
Victor sank into his chair.
A broken old man.
May you like
Red and blue light in the fog.
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