Chapter 12 - Seventeen Minutes Before Everything Changed
At 3:11 a.m., Nomi stood inside an armored van listening to three men argue about whether she was staying behind.
“No,” she said.
Nobody listened.
Daniel pointed at the map.
“We enter from the east.”
Octavio shook his head.
“Too exposed.”
Vincent, now sitting under guard, said, “There’s a service tunnel.”
Everyone turned.
“You mention that now?” Daniel asked.
“I only remembered because people keep yelling.”
Nomi folded her arms.
“Can everybody stop planning around me as though I’m furniture?”
Octavio looked at her.
“Not furniture.”
“Fragile package?”
“No.”
“Strategic civilian?”
He hesitated.
“Worse.”
Nomi threw up her hands.
Vincent looked between them.
“Are you two—”
“No,” they said together.
Vincent raised his eyebrows.
“Right.”
They had seventeen minutes before Sarno’s scheduled departure.
Nomi would remain inside the mobile command vehicle.
Compromise.
She hated it.
Accepted it.
Progress worked both ways.
Octavio prepared to leave.
Nomi caught his sleeve.
He turned.
“Come back.”
His expression softened.
“I will.”
“That sounded too confident.”
“I intend to.”
“Better.”
He stepped closer.
For one second, Nomi thought he might kiss her.
He didn’t.
Instead he touched his forehead lightly to hers.
“I have unfinished business with you.”
“That sounds even more threatening.”
“Good.”
He left.
Nomi watched the screens.
Daniel’s team entered the building.
No explosions.
No chaos.
Precise movement.
Then cameras went dark.
One by one.
Nomi sat forward.
“Why?”
The technician shook his head.
“Signal disruption.”
Radio static.
Then silence.
Nomi’s pulse raced.
Five minutes.
Six.
Seven.
At eight minutes, Vincent’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
Nomi answered.
Sarno.
“You look like your mother.”
Her blood froze.
“You never met me.”
“I’ve watched you grow.”
Nomi gripped the phone.
“You watched a child because you were afraid of her mother.”
A pause.
“Sharp.”
“Mom said worse.”
“You found her archive.”
“You sound nervous.”
Sarno laughed.
“Your father is beside me.”
Nomi stopped.
Marco’s voice came faintly.
“Nomi, don’t—”
The line shifted.
Sarno again.
“Tell Octavio to withdraw.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“He’s inside.”
Silence.
Good.
Sarno had not known.
Nomi smiled despite fear.
“You’re losing control.”
His voice became cold.
“Your mother thought that too.”
Nomi’s hand tightened.
“You want the archive?”
“Yes.”
“Then you need me.”
“I already have your father.”
“He doesn’t know where the copies are.”
There were no copies.
Not yet.
Sarno did not know that.
“You’re bluffing.”
“So are you.”
Silence.
Two people who survived by observation faced each other through a phone.
Then Nomi heard something.
A train.
Faint.
Horn.
Metal.
She looked at the city map.
The recording studio was near tracks, but not that close.
Sarno was not inside the building.
“He moved,” Nomi whispered.
The technician looked over.
Nomi asked into the phone, “How’s the river?”
Sarno hesitated.
Tiny.
Enough.
“You’re not by the river.”
No answer.
Another train horn.
Nomi’s eyes moved across the map.
Rail yard.
Industrial district.
“You’re south.”
Sarno ended the call.
Nomi stood.
“Track Vincent’s phone.”
Technician frowned.
“What?”
“Sarno called him. Trace routing metadata.”
“That takes—”
“Try.”
Thirty seconds.
A location.
Old freight terminal.
Nomi grabbed the radio.
“Octavio.”
Static.
“Octavio, Sarno isn’t there.”
Nothing.
Then his voice.
“Nomi?”
Relief nearly knocked her over.
“He moved Marco. South freight terminal.”
“How do you know?”
“Train.”
Pause.
Of course he believed her.
“I’m going.”
Nomi looked at Vincent.
He looked terrified.
“My brother used that terminal years ago.”
“Layout?”
Vincent drew it.
Nomi sent the image.
Then noticed something.
A maintenance corridor.
Narrow.
Hidden behind loading platforms.
She had drawn the terminal once from across the river.
“Octavio.”
“Yes?”
“West side. There’s an old service access beneath platform four.”
“How do you know?”
“I drew it.”
His laugh came through the radio.
Of course.
“You really do see everything.”
Seventeen minutes later, everything changed.
Sarno was intercepted before reaching the private airfield.
Marco was recovered alive.
Malcolm’s son was found in a guarded apartment based on records in Sarno’s vehicle.
Evidence linked Sarno to years of coercion, financial crimes, and the threats against both families.
Nobody needed revenge.
Truth was enough.
Police and federal investigators took over.
Vincent surrendered documents and agreed to cooperate.
His future would not be comfortable.
But it would be honest.
For the first time in years.
At sunrise, Nomi stood outside the terminal.
Her father approached.
He looked exhausted.
Older.
Alive.
Nomi stared.
Marco stopped several feet away.
“I said I’d try not to disappear.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“That was a terrible promise.”
“I know.”
She stepped forward.
He hugged her.
Nomi cried against the shoulder of the father she had spent fifteen years trying not to miss.
When she opened her eyes, Octavio stood behind him.
Waiting.
Not intruding.
Nomi released Marco slowly.
She walked toward Octavio.
“You came back.”
“I told you.”
“You were annoyingly confident.”
“Yes.”
Nomi hit his chest once.
Not hard.
He caught her wrist.
“What was that?”
“For making me wait seventeen minutes.”
His mouth curved.
Then Nomi kissed him.
No warning.
No strategy.
No permission asked because she was the one closing the distance.
Octavio froze.
Only for a heartbeat.
Then one hand touched her waist carefully.
The kiss was brief.
Warm.
Real.
Nomi stepped back.
Octavio stared at her.
“Well.”
She felt herself blush.
“Don’t ruin it.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You looked like you were going to say something arrogant.”
“I was going to ask whether that means New Year’s Eve meant something.”
Nomi smiled.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe.”
“You like control. I like ambiguity.”
“I’ve noticed.”
Behind them, Valentina arrived with Axel and immediately screamed.
“I KNEW IT!”
Nomi closed her eyes.
Octavio sighed.
And for the first time, the sound held no exhaustion.
Only amusement.
The crisis had ended.
The consequences had not.
Because surviving danger was one thing.
Figuring out what came after was harder.
Especially when Nomi Marino had just kissed the most controlling man in Chicago.
And Octavio Ki had finally learned enough to know he could not tell her what happened next.
May you like
He would have to ask.
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