Part 3: The Digital Strike
My mind reeled as the full magnitude of the truth hit me. For a decade, I had lived in a hollowed-out mansion, believing my wife had abandoned me, while she and my children were living in absolute poverty, fighting a high-stakes war against the very monster sleeping under my family’s name.
“They’re moving forty million dollars through the docks tonight at midnight,” Leo said, pulling off his headset and looking up at me with eyes that matched my own exact shade of blue. “If we don’t upload the cracked ledgers to the federal bureau before eleven, Marcus will finalize the asset transfer and vanish to a non-extradition country forever.”
I dropped to my knees in front of my son, taking his small, cold hands in mine. “You’ve been doing all of this alone?”
“We had to,” Leo whispered, a crack finally appearing in his stoic composure. “Mom was getting too sick to leave the room, and Sofia was the only one who could get close enough to Marcus’s security guards without raising suspicion.”
“You don’t have to carry this anymore, son,” I said, a wave of profound, fierce protection washing over me. I pulled out my secure satellite phone—a device Marcus’s surveillance team could never trace—and dialed the personal number of the Director of Homeland Security, a man who owed my late father his career.
“Director Vance,” I spoke clearly into the receiver, my voice steady and cold. “I have the primary evidence for the ten-year cold case on the shipping corridor. I need a tactical team at the Port of Boston at eleven-thirty PM. We’re going to shut down my brother.”
To see the high-stakes confrontation at the docks, continue reading below for Part 4...
