Chapter 9 - THE RAID
The first men through the Kane estate gates wore federal jackets.
That should have reassured Willa.
It didn’t.
Because Grant Allison stepped from the helicopter and walked toward them without handcuffs.
Everett watched through the security monitors.
“Bought.”
Mara frowned.
“You can’t buy an entire federal agency.”
“No.”
Everett pointed toward the screen.
“Only the first six men through the door.”
Crowley recognized one.
“Richard Harlan.”
“Who?” Willa asked.
“Former DEA task-force supervisor. Now private contractor.”
The jackets were costumes.
The raid was theater.
Everett ordered the gates locked.
Too late.
Someone inside the security office had already opened them.
Vehicles poured into the courtyard.
Everett’s loyal men took defensive positions.
Willa’s stomach tightened.
“This is going to become a massacre.”
Everett looked toward the chapel where Ruth and Naomi were sheltering.
“Allison wants ledger.”
“And me.”
“Yes.”
“And you.”
“Probably.”
“Sterling?”
Everett gave a humorless smile.
“Disposable.”
A voice came through the mansion intercom.
Grant Allison.
“Everett.”
His calm tone echoed through every hallway.
“It is genuinely impressive to hear that you survived.”
Everett pressed the microphone.
“Come closer and congratulate me.”
Allison chuckled.
“You always were theatrical.”
“Funny from a man arriving by helicopter.”
Willa looked at Everett.
Despite his weakness, there was no visible fear.
Only rage held under extraordinary control.
Allison continued.
“I want the ledger.”
“Don’t have it.”
“You always were a poor liar.”
“I built a career on lying.”
“Then perhaps Willa has softened you.”
Everett glanced toward her.
Allison knew exactly where to push.
“I will exchange Ruth Hayes for the ledger.”
Willa grabbed the microphone.
“You don’t have her.”
Silence.
Then Allison laughed.
“No. But I have someone else.”
A video appeared on the security monitor.
Naomi.
Bound to a chair.
Willa stared.
Impossible.
Naomi had been in the chapel minutes earlier.
She turned toward Crowley.
“Where is she?”
He called the chapel guards.
No answer.
The video feed widened.
Naomi’s face was bruised.
Behind her stood Dr. Whitfield.
Willa’s breathing stopped.
Whitfield had escaped during the chaos.
Allison spoke again.
“Dr. Reyes made the unfortunate choice to investigate a laboratory sample that did not belong to her.”
Willa looked toward Everett.
“He traced the toxicology lab.”
Everett’s face hardened.
“Where?”
Allison answered as though he heard the question.
“The old Mercy freight terminal.”
Mara whispered, “That warehouse closed ten years ago.”
Everett knew it.
Allison continued.
“Bring the ledger. Bring Willa. No one else.”
Willa shook her head.
“He won’t release Naomi.”
“No,” Everett said.
“Then why go?”
“To kill Allison.”
“No.”
His eyes met hers.
She stepped closer.
“If we start acting like him, we lose every advantage.”
“He kept me paralyzed eight months.”
“I know.”
“He destroyed your life.”
“I know.”
“He poisoned your father.”
“Maybe.”
“He damaged your mother.”
Her voice cracked.
“I know.”
Everett’s anger faltered when he saw her face.
Willa continued.
“That’s why I want him alive long enough to hear every charge.”
Everett looked away.
No one had spoken to him this way in years.
Perhaps ever.
Mara touched his shoulder.
“She’s right.”
He sighed.
“Everybody very brave while I’m recovering.”
Crowley almost smiled.
They formed a plan.
Not a gunfight.
Evidence.
Mara sent copies of the ledger to three separate journalists with delayed-release instructions.
Crowley sent files to an assistant U.S. attorney Everett believed was clean.
Willa recorded a statement explaining Harold Fisk’s death and Whitfield’s injections.
Everett recorded his own.
Then Willa and Everett drove toward the terminal.
He insisted on coming.
She stopped arguing after realizing it was impossible.
“You realize you’re medically insane.”
“Not diagnosis.”
“It should be.”
At the terminal, Allison waited alone in the center of the enormous warehouse.
Or appeared to.
Naomi sat tied to a chair.
Whitfield stood behind her.
Sterling was there too.
Free.
Willa stopped.
“You released him?”
Allison smiled.
“Sterling has always been useful.”
Sterling looked ashamed and furious simultaneously.
Everett leaned on his cane.
“You tried to replace me.”
Sterling snapped, “You never let anyone become anything.”
Everett stared.
“I gave you six companies.”
“You gave me leftovers.”
“I gave you a life.”
“You gave me your shadow!”
The words echoed.
For the first time, Willa understood Sterling’s resentment.
It did not excuse him.
But it explained the wound Allison had exploited.
Allison extended his hand.
“The ledger.”
Willa held up the black book.
“Naomi first.”
“No.”
“Then no deal.”
Allison sighed.
“Still stubborn.”
Whitfield placed a syringe against Naomi’s neck.
Willa froze.
“I suggest cooperation.”
Everett’s grip tightened on his cane.
Willa looked at Whitfield.
“Harold Fisk.”
His face changed slightly.
“You remember him.”
“I remember every patient.”
“No. You remember killing him.”
“I didn’t.”
“You signed the medication order.”
“You forged it.”
Whitfield smiled.
“Can you prove that?”
“Yes.”
That was a bluff.
But Whitfield’s reaction was not.
Fear.
Willa saw it.
“There’s a backup access log,” she continued.
Whitfield looked toward Allison.
There.
A fracture.
Willa pressed harder.
“You told the review board my login came from workstation C-12.”
Whitfield swallowed.
“But C-12 was replaced that month.”
Another bluff.
Naomi realized what Willa was doing.
Allison did too.
“Enough.”
Willa tossed the ledger onto the floor between them.
Allison stared.
“Pick it up.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re standing on a pressure switch.”
Allison instinctively looked down.
Everett smiled.
Willa almost ruined it by laughing.
There was no pressure switch.
Everett had improvised.
That half-second distraction was enough.
Naomi threw her chair backward into Whitfield.
The syringe flew.
Everett drew his gun.
Sterling drew his.
Willa dove behind a steel pillar.
Shots exploded.
Whitfield ran.
Allison disappeared behind crates.
Everett fired once.
Sterling screamed.
Silence followed.
Willa looked out.
Sterling lay on the floor holding his shoulder.
Everett’s gun was aimed at Allison.
But Allison was smiling.
“Did you really think I came here without insurance?”
He pressed a remote.
A deep mechanical sound began beneath the warehouse.
Everett’s face changed.
Willa smelled gasoline.
“No.”
Allison walked backward toward an exit.
“You wanted the truth released?”
He raised the remote.
“Release it from the ashes.”
May you like
Flames erupted along the far wall.
And Naomi was still tied to the chair.
