Chapter 7 - The Setup
We flew back to San Diego under the radar, landing at a private airstrip outside the city.
Eric met us on the tarmac.
When he saw Maya stepping out of the jet, his jaw tightened, but he didn't yell. He knew the stakes.
"Is the baby safe?" I asked as soon as I reached him.
"She's with Detective Miller at a secure location," Eric assured me, pulling me into a tight embrace. "We told him everything."
"Does Miller know about David?"
"Yes," Eric nodded grimly. "The FBI is involved now. They are wiring the shipyard for sound and video."
We moved to a secure command center Marcus had set up in a discreet downtown hotel room.
Federal agents were adjusting earpieces and checking monitor feeds.
"Here's the play," Agent Reynolds, a tall, no-nonsense FBI agent, told us.
"Maya will go to the meeting point carrying a bundle that looks like an infant. David will demand the child."
"We need him to explicitly state his extortion plan on the wire," Reynolds continued. "Without that, his expensive lawyers will claim it was a misunderstanding."
Maya sat in the corner, looking pale and nauseous.
I walked over and handed her a glass of water.
"You can do this," I told her quietly. "You saved my daughter, Maya. Finish the job."
She nodded, taking a sip of the water. "I just want this nightmare to end."
At 11:00 PM, Marcus drove Maya to the abandoned shipyard near the naval base.
Eric and I sat in the command center, staring at the grainy black-and-white feed from the hidden cameras.
The rain had followed us down the coast, casting long, menacing shadows across the rusted shipping containers.
"Comms check," Reynolds said into his microphone.
"I hear you," Maya's voice came through our speakers, trembling slightly.
"Target vehicle approaching," Marcus's voice crackled over a different channel.
On the screen, a sleek black SUV pulled into the gravel lot, its headlights cutting through the heavy rain.
The engine cut off, and the lights went dark.
For a terrifying minute, nothing happened.
Then, the driver's door opened, and David Sterling stepped out into the rain, holding an umbrella and a metal briefcase.
"Stay calm, Maya," Reynolds whispered into the mic. "Let him do the talking."
Maya stepped out from behind a shipping container, clutching a wrapped bundle tightly to her chest.
David walked toward her, his face a mask of cold fury.
"You're a very stupid girl, Maya," David's voice echoed through the hidden microphone on her collar.
"Where is the money, David?" Maya asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Right here," David said, patting the briefcase. "Hand over the asset."
"Not until I count it."
David laughed, a cruel, echoing sound. "You think you're in a position to negotiate? I own you."
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"Why are you doing this?" Maya asked, perfectly feeding the line Reynolds had scripted for her.
"Why ruin Eric's life? He treated you like a brother."
