Chapter 62 - The Blood Price
The silence in the concrete basement was not merely the absence of sound; it was a suffocating pressure that seemed to suck the oxygen straight from my lungs. Emma’s empty winter coat lay crumpled on the floor, the bright yellow fabric looking pathetically fragile under the buzzing fluorescent tubes. I dropped to one knee, my fingers trembling as I touched the wool. It still held a faint trace of her scent—vanilla shampoo and the sugar from the carnival doughnut she had eaten only hours before.
"David, stand up," Marcus said, his voice raw, though he kept his tone deliberately measured. "Look at me. Spiral now, and she dies before the sun clears the tree line."
I didn't stand. I pressed the fabric to my face, squeezing my eyes shut until sparks danced behind my lids. Every instinct in my body screamed to scream, to tear down the walls with my bare hands, to slaughter every man who had ever carried Victor Harlan’s name or taken his money. But fury without direction was useless. Harlan was out on the black water, protected by miles of rolling ocean and the impenetrable shield of a hostage.
"He wants Evelyn," I whispered, the words tasting like ash. "He doesn't want money. He doesn't want the ledger. He wants my mother."
"Because your mother is the key to the vault codes in Zurich," Marcus explained, stepping closer and tapping the screen of his tablet. "The cipher Harlan pulled from the locket only holds half the sequence. The other half was burned into Evelyn's memory forty years ago when she betrayed him and took the family trust fund for herself. Harlan knows he can't access a single cent without her biometric scan and verbal passphrase."
I slowly stood up, letting the coat drop, though my hand remained clamped tight around the grip of my sidearm. "Where is she?"
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"Federal protective custody at the regional substation in Norfolk," Marcus answered, shaking his head. "They have two marshals posted at her door. David, listen to me. If you walk into that federal facility and pull your mother out, you are committing a felony of the highest order. The Bureau will paint a bullseye on your back."
"Let them paint it," I spat, turning on my heel and heading for the stairs. "Every law on earth stops at the waterline when my daughter is in Harlan's hands. We have three hours before dawn. Get your gear, Marcus. We’re breaking my mother out."
