Chapter 9 - THE CRIB AT 5:58 A.M.
David stared at the platinum ring on my finger.
His eyes darted from the coiled viper emblem to the four armed operators flanking me on the catwalk.
His chest heaved beneath his cashmere coat.
The spray from the intake shaft sixty feet below misted across his glasses, but he didn't wipe it away.
"You don't understand, Megan," David yelled over the thunder of the water.
"Mark was going to give the bonds to the federal prosecutor!"
"He was going to send twenty men to federal prison!"
"He was trying to save his family!" I shouted back, taking another step across the steel grating.
"He was trying to get away from monsters like you!"
David glanced down at the laptop screen resting on the cable spool.
The digital countdown was flashing crimson:
00:03:14.
Three minutes.
"The escrow is linked to my personal cryptographic token, Megan," David sneered, a desperate, manic grin spreading across his face.
He pulled a small black USB drive from his pocket.
"If I drop this into the intake shaft, the transfer permanently fails."
"Forty million dollars dissolves into the state treasury."
"Your little boy will never see a single dime."
"He will grow up in that rat-infested apartment just like his father did!"
Viktor raised his rifle to his shoulder.
"Take the shot, Viktor," I whispered.
"Wait!" David screamed, holding the black drive out over the edge of the open floor grate.
"Shoot me and it falls!"
"Sixty feet down into forty feet of rushing lake current!"
"You'll never find it!"
The silence on the catwalk was suffocating, broken only by the roar of three million gallons of water rushing beneath our feet.
00:02:04.
Two minutes.
"What do you want, David?" I asked.
My voice was quiet.
Steady.
I lowered my arms, letting my hands hang loose at my sides.
"The boat," David panted, sweat pouring down his temples despite the freezing spray.
"Give me the interceptor craft."
"Let me clear the outer harbor."
"When I reach the Indiana shoreline, I'll email you the secondary decryption key."
"You're a liar, David," I said softly.
"You've been lying since the day you hired me."
"You hired me at Laura so you could watch Mark's wife."
"You made me scrub floors and fold napkins while you waited for this clock to hit zero."
I took another slow, deliberate step forward.
"Megan, stay back!" David yelled, his finger tightening on the trigger of his pistol.
"I'll shoot you! I swear to God I'll shoot you!"
"No, you won't," I said.
"Why wouldn't I?!"
"Because if you kill me," I pointed to Roman's signet ring,
"Roman Vance will spend every dollar he owns hunting every member of your family from Chicago to Berlin."
David blinked.
Just for a fraction of a second.
The name Vance paralyzed his nervous system.
In that single heartbeat of hesitation, I didn't reach for a gun.
I reached for the twenty-foot industrial high-pressure water hose coiled against the stone pillar beside my hip.
A hose used to flush the intake screens of river debris.
I cranked the brass valve wide open with both hands.
Six hundred pounds of pressurized lake water blasted from the four-inch nozzle.
FWOOOOOOSH.
The water struck David full in the chest like an iron battering ram.
His pistol flew from his fingers, spinning off the catwalk into the abyss.
His body was slammed against the iron railing of the open floor hatch.
The black USB drive slipped from his hand, bouncing once on the steel grating.
I dropped the hose and dove across the wet metal floor.
My knees hit the grating, skin tearing through my pants.
I slid on the slick frost.
My right hand shot out over the edge of the pit.
My fingers closed around the cold plastic of the black drive two inches before it cleared the rim.
00:00:18.
Eighteen seconds.
I scrambled on my knees to the cable spool where the ruggedized laptop sat.
The screen was screaming an audio alert.
ESCROW EXPIRATION IMMINENT.
INSERT PHYSICAL SECURITY TOKEN.
I slammed the black drive into the side USB port.
The screen flashed bright green.
TOKEN ACCEPTED.
AUTHORIZING BENEFICIARY TRANSFER: LEO CARVER TRUST.
TRANSFER COMPLETE: $40,000,000.00.
The digital clock stopped at 00:00:03.
Three seconds.
A long, deep, electronic chime echoed through the stone room.
I slumped against the cable spool, my forehead resting against the cold metal rim.
Tears, hot and unstoppable, tracked through the lake water on my cheeks.
It was over.
The four-year nightmare was over.
Mark's debt was paid.
Leo's future was secured.
Behind me, Viktor stepped forward, his heavy combat boot pinning David Kesler's face flat against the wet steel grating.
David was coughing up lake water, weeping like a broken child.
"What do we do with him, Mrs. Carver?" Viktor asked.
His voice was respectful.
Formal.
I stood up slowly, wiping the rain from my eyes.
I looked down at the man who had thrown my paycheck onto the floor twelve hours ago.
"Leave him for the Coast Guard," I said.
May you like
"And call the penthouse."
"Tell Roman his restaurant is ready for breakfast."
