Chapter 8 - The Price of Peace
"Put your hands on your head," I commanded, keeping the sights of my gun dead center on his chest.
Vance didn't raise his hands. Instead, he laughed.
"You think you can just walk in here and arrest me? I have men everywhere. You pull that trigger, you'll never make it off this airstrip."
"Your men are bleeding out on the tarmac," I replied coldly. "And I'm not here to arrest you."
Vance's smile faltered. He realized I wasn't acting in any official capacity. I was a ghost. And ghosts don't have rules of engagement.
In a desperate panic, Vance lunged toward a desk, reaching for a weapon.
I fired a single shot.
The bullet struck him in the shoulder, spinning him around and sending him crashing into the computer monitors. He screamed, clutching his bleeding arm as he collapsed to the concrete floor.
I walked up to him, kicking the gun away from his reaching hand.
"That was for Marcus," I said, staring down at the man who had ruined so many lives.
Suddenly, the hangar doors began to roll open with a deafening screech. Red and blue lights flooded the space.
Not Vance's men. Police cruisers.
Elias walked into the hangar, flanked by Deputy Harris and a dozen heavily armed FBI agents. Elias had sent the decrypted files to the Bureau before we left the cabin.
Harris walked up to me, looking from my gun to the bleeding man on the floor.
"You left a hell of a mess in my county, Mercer," Harris said, though there was a hint of a smile beneath his mustache.
"I'm just a Walmart employee, Deputy," I said, slowly lowering my weapon. "I was just defending myself."
The FBI agents dragged a swearing, crying Vance to his feet and hauled him toward the cruisers. The nightmare was finally over. The data was in the right hands, the corruption was exposed, and the threat was neutralized.
Elias walked up beside me, wrapping a heavy arm around my shoulders.
"So," he said softly, looking out at the rising sun. "What now?"
I thought of Maya, waiting safely in the cabin. I thought of the long drive back home.
"Now," I smiled, leaning my head against his shoulder. "I think I'm going to quit my job in the home goods department. I hear the bakery might be hiring."
Elias laughed, a rich, warm sound that filled the empty space.
May you like
For the first time in six years, I didn't feel the need to look over my shoulder. The Trident tattoo on my wrist caught the morning light, but I didn't try to cover it up.
The ghost was finally at rest. And Callie Mercer was finally ready to live.
