Chapter 8 - Mark Comes Home
Mark looked older than forty.
Not because of gray hair or wrinkles.
Because fear had settled into him permanently.
He stood in the warehouse doorway with both hands visible, eyes moving between Robert, Claire, Ethan, and Walter.
Walter smiled.
“Family reunion.”
Claire stepped out of her car.
Marisol had told her to wait for agents.
Claire had no intention of walking into the warehouse.
“Mark,” she called. “Come here.”
Mark shook his head.
Walter said, “He can’t.”
Ethan got out beside Claire.
“What did you do to him?”
Walter seemed amused. “Why does everyone assume I’m the villain?”
“Because you send threatening photographs,” Claire said.
Walter’s smile thinned.
Robert walked forward holding the drive.
“I brought it.”
Claire turned sharply. “Dad.”
Robert ignored her.
Walter held out his hand.
Robert stopped ten feet away.
“You let Mark leave.”
Walter laughed.
“Robert, you are still negotiating like you have something I need.”
“This is the only copy.”
Claire watched Walter’s eyes.
A lie.
He did need it.
Mark looked at Claire and gave the smallest shake of his head.
Don’t.
Claire understood.
She raised her voice.
“Dad, the drive’s already copied.”
Walter’s gaze snapped to her.
Robert turned.
Claire kept going.
“Federal investigators have it.”
It was a bluff.
Mostly.
Marisol had seen transaction records, but not the full drive.
Walter’s calm finally cracked.
“You gave it to them?”
Claire said nothing.
That was enough.
Walter turned toward Mark.
Mark moved first.
He drove his shoulder into Walter and ran.
Everything broke at once.
Robert lunged.
Ethan sprinted forward.
Walter shouted.
A side door opened and two men stepped out.
Claire grabbed Ethan’s jacket and yanked him back.
“Car. Now.”
Mark ran toward them.
One of the men caught his sleeve.
Mark twisted free but fell hard onto one knee.
Robert threw the flash drive across the concrete.
It skidded under a parked forklift.
Walter yelled, “Get it!”
Sirens sounded in the distance.
Real ones.
Marisol.
Walter’s men froze.
Claire ran to Mark, grabbed his arm, and pulled him up.
“Move.”
They reached the cars as unmarked vehicles poured into the lot.
Walter backed toward the warehouse.
Agents surrounded him.
For one breathless second, Claire thought it was over.
Then Mark collapsed against her car.
Ethan caught him.
“Mark?”
Mark’s face was white.
“I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not.”
Mark gripped Claire’s sleeve.
“Listen.”
“What?”
“The drive isn’t the biggest thing.”
Claire stared at him.
Mark swallowed.
“Grandpa knew.”
Robert, standing a few feet away, closed his eyes.
May you like
Mark looked directly at Claire.
“And Dad knows why Grandpa died.”
