Chapter 9 - THE FATHER'S RECKONING
At seven o'clock that morning, the rain had stopped, leaving the city draped in a thick, suffocating fog.
In an underground parking structure beneath the municipal courthouse, Detective Thomas Harris walked toward his unmarked sedan.
He carried a leather briefcase containing fifty thousand dollars in unmarked bearer bonds—his advance payment from Julian Rossi.
He unlocked his car door with a remote fob, but before he could sit, a heavy gloved hand grabbed him by the throat from behind.
Harris was slammed violently against the concrete pillar, the breath exploding from his lungs in a ragged gasp.
Marco DeLuca stood over him, his eyes completely hollow of humanity, smelling of gunpowder and rain.
Behind Marco stood Vincent Moretti, holding a silenced pistol aimed directly at Harris’s kneecap.
"Good morning, Detective," Marco said, his voice terrifyingly quiet.
"I understand you have been looking for my daughter."
Harris choked, his face turning purple as Marco’s fingers tightened around his windpipe.
"Marco... you're making a mistake..." Harris managed to squeak out.
"The council voted this morning... Julian is in charge now... you have no standing."
Marco shoved the detective down to his knees, pressing the muzzle of his own custom pistol against the detective’s forehead.
"I don't give a damn about the council, Harris," Marco said, leaning down until their foreheads almost touched.
"You put my seven-year-old child's life on the public wires."
"You gave an order to execute an innocent maid who shed blood to save her."
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't scatter your brains across this concrete right now."
Harris began to tremble uncontrollably, realizing that the man standing before him had completely detached from all rules of civilized engagement.
"It was Julian!" Harris blurted out, terror stripping away his professional composure.
"Julian had the master codes for the ambulance routes!"
"He promised me the deputy commissioner seat once you were removed!"
"Where is my daughter, Harris?" Marco demanded, cocking the hammer of the firearm with a loud, metallic click.
"I don't know!" Harris screamed, raising his trembling hands.
"Julian thought Daniel had her at the South Basin docks!"
"He took two tactical squads to the old grain terminal twenty minutes ago to intercept them!"
"If the girl isn't there, Julian is going to burn the entire facility to wipe out the evidence!"
Marco looked at Moretti, who nodded grimly and stepped forward with heavy zip-ties.
"Tie him to the pillar and call Internal Affairs from an anonymous burner," Marco instructed Moretti.
"Let his own department feed on his carcass."
Marco turned and walked toward his armored SUV, his phone suddenly buzzing with an unrecognized incoming video call.
He pressed the accept button on the steering wheel console.
The screen illuminated to show Claire Morgan, sitting in the dimly lit cabin of Daniel's safehouse.
She looked pale, her hair tangled and her shoulder wrapped in thick white gauze, but her eyes were cold, sharp, and entirely steady.
"Claire," Marco breathed, his chest releasing an agonizing knot of tension.
"Sophie... is she with you?"
Claire shifted the camera slightly to show Sophie sleeping soundly on the cot beneath a heavy wool blanket.
"She is alive, Marco," Claire said, her voice devoid of deference or warmth.
"No thanks to your family."
Marco closed his eyes for a second, swallowing his pride.
"I owe you my life, Claire."
"Tell me where you are, and I will bring an entire security detachment to escort you both."
"No," Claire refused flatly.
"You will bring nobody."
"Your security detachment killed Daniel, shot your grandfather, and executed your wife two years ago."
Marco froze, his hands gripping the steering wheel until the leather groaned under the pressure.
"What did you just say about Elena?"
Claire held up the handheld cassette player to the microphone, pressing play for five seconds so Elena's voice echoed through Marco’s vehicle.
Marco’s breath caught in his throat, a sound like a wounded animal tearing through his chest as he heard his dead wife’s voice.
"Julian is at the South Basin grain terminal right now, waiting for Daniel," Claire said, cutting the audio.
"He thinks he is ambushing an injured driver."
"He doesn't know that Daniel left behind every ledger, every wiretap, and every customs slip proving Julian murdered Elena."
"Claire, stay where you are," Marco pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation.
"Do not go near that terminal."
"I am not going to hide in a closet while that monster writes the history of what happened to this child," Claire replied.
"I am bringing Sophie to the terminal at eight o'clock."
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"You have twenty minutes to get there, Marco."
"If you are late, you will arrive just in time to bury the rest of your family."
