Chapter 6 - THE MAN WHO KIDNAPPED ME DECIDED NOT TO KILL ME
Miles pointed the gun at the floor.
Not me.
That was the first thing that kept me from running.
The second was the younger guard.
He looked terrified.
“Miles?”
“Shut the door.”
“What are we doing?”
“Changing the plan.”
The younger man closed the office door.
Miles looked at me.
“Victor said kill you and burn the west wing.”
My stomach turned.
“So the evidence disappears.”
“Yes.”
“And you?”
“He said I disappear too.”
The younger guard swore.
Miles gave a humorless laugh.
“Apparently loyalty has an expiration date.”
I watched him.
“You kidnapped me.”
“Yes.”
“You expect sympathy?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I expect you to understand incentives.”
“Damian would be proud.”
That almost made him smile.
Then he looked at the clock.
“Police will come.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Damian did not call Ferraro’s people first.”
“He did call Ferraro.”
Miles shook his head.
“Not what I mean.”
He had expected Damian to retaliate privately.
When Damian did not, the plan changed.
“How many men?”
“Three on site.”
“Who?”
“Me. Tommy.”
He nodded toward the younger guard.
“And Russo downstairs.”
“Russo loyal to Victor?”
“Yes.”
“Then he won’t like your change.”
“No.”
Gunfire sounded below us.
One shot.
Then two.
Tommy went pale.
Miles moved to the wall.
“Police?”
“Could be Russo.”
A voice shouted in the corridor.
Not police.
“Carver!”
Russo.
Miles whispered, “Back corner.”
I moved behind a metal cabinet.
Tommy raised his gun.
Miles shook his head.
“Do not shoot unless he comes through.”
Someone hit the door.
“Carver!”
Miles called back.
“Victor changed terms.”
“I know.”
Another hit.
“He said finish it!”
Miles looked at me.
There was no nobility in his face.
Only calculation.
He had chosen survival after helping build my nightmare.
That distinction mattered.
The door burst.
Everything happened too fast.
Russo entered with a gun.
Tommy shouted.
Miles fired once.
Russo fell against the doorframe.
Tommy screamed.
I dropped behind the cabinet.
Then outside voices.
“POLICE!”
“DROP THE WEAPON!”
Miles put his gun down.
Hands raised.
Tommy did too.
Agent Vega came through first with tactical officers.
She found me crouched behind the cabinet.
“Rachel Hale?”
“Yes.”
“Are you injured?”
“I don’t know.”
That was true.
She moved me out.
On the stairs, I looked back.
Miles stood against the wall while officers cuffed him.
Our eyes met.
He said, “Tell Damian I did not follow the last order.”
I stared.
“You followed every one before it.”
His face lowered.
Good.
At 10:07, I was outside.
Rain struck my face.
Cold.
Real.
I had been missing seventy-six minutes.
It felt like a year.
An ambulance waited.
Agent Vega said Damian was not coming to the scene.
I laughed weakly.
“Someone finally got him to follow instructions?”
“Temporarily.”
At Cross Tower, Damian did not speak until Luke’s phone showed the message.
RACHEL RECOVERED ALIVE.
Then he sat down.
Not dramatically.
His knees simply stopped holding him.
Luke looked away.
Agent Vega called.
“She is conscious.”
Damian closed his eyes.
“Injuries?”
“Likely sedative exposure, restraint abrasions, bruising. She’s going to Northwestern.”
“Can I see her?”
“After medical clearance and interview.”
“Yes.”
No argument.
Luke stared.
Damian said, “Do not look so surprised.”
“I’m learning new things.”
At the hospital, I learned my kidnappers had used a sedative during the abduction.
No serious internal injuries.
Bruised shoulder.
Cut wrists.
Mild concussion.
I answered police questions until a doctor stopped them.
Then I slept for forty minutes.
When I woke, Damian sat outside the glass door.
Not inside.
He wore the same suit.
No tie now.
Luke stood down the hall.
I looked at the nurse.
“Can he come in?”
She asked, “Do you want him to?”
“Yes.”
Damian entered.
He stopped three feet from the bed.
“Rachel.”
“You look terrible.”
His mouth tightened.
“So do you.”
“Mine is more justified.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
I had imagined hugging him.
Crying.
Maybe hitting him.
Instead I asked, “What is Lakefront?”
His face changed.
“An apparent shell vendor.”
“Victor?”
“We’re investigating.”
“Miles said Victor ordered me killed.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Miles told police.”
I stared at him.
“Why was I being watched?”
“We think you accessed an old file.”
“I did not open it.”
“I know.”
“What file?”
Damian sat.
“Cross Continuity Ledger.”
“What is that?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes.”
I did.
That frightened me.
He continued.
“Victor and my father had access. Miles too.”
“Your father is dead.”
“Victor isn’t.”
“Where is he?”
“Gone.”
My stomach tightened.
“Gone where?”
“His Gold Coast house is empty. Phone off. Car found near Midway.”
“Airport?”
“Maybe.”
“You let him disappear?”
Damian’s face hardened.
“Rachel.”
I stopped.
That was unfair.
He had spent the last hour trying not to become the man Victor wanted.
“Sorry.”
“You do not owe me an apology tonight.”
I looked at the ceiling.
“Miles said Victor wanted you to hit Ferraro.”
“He did.”
“Board removes you?”
“Yes.”
“So all of this was about taking your company?”
“Partly.”
“What’s the other part?”
He handed me a photocopy.
The scanned Lakefront invoice.
Hale matter — keep off books.
I stared at my name.
“Four months.”
“We think surveillance started after you touched the Continuity Ledger archive.”
“What is in it?”
“I said I don’t know.”
“Then find out.”
“We will.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“You find out.”
His eyes met mine.
For the first time in four years, I did not sound like his secretary.
I sounded like someone who had been kidnapped because his family secrets touched my name.
“I want every document that mentions me.”
“Some may be privileged.”
“I don’t care.”
“I know.”
“I want to know why Victor knew enough about me to decide I was dangerous four months ago.”
Damian nodded.
“You will.”
The next morning, Cross legal obtained a court-supervised forensic copy of the restricted archive as part of the criminal and corporate investigation.
The password was recovered from Miles’s seized device.
The Continuity Ledger opened.
It was not a ledger of money.
It was a list.
Names.
Payments.
Political favors.
Union intermediaries.
Judges long retired.
Police officers, some dead.
Businesses.
Shell companies.
Violence.
The hidden operational history of the old Cross organization from 1998 through 2012.
Damian’s father had kept records of everything the family publicly denied.
Victor had maintained the file.
Then Luke reached the final section.
Subject:
CONTINUITY RISKS — NEXT GENERATION.
Three names appeared.
Damian Cross.
Luke Mercer.
Rachel Hale.
My name was not added four months ago.
May you like
It had been entered twelve years earlier.
Long before I ever met Damian.
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