Chapter 14 - One Night to Find the Truth
Jonathan Kane disappeared twenty-three minutes before we identified him.
His apartment was empty.
Company phone abandoned.
Vehicle found beneath a bridge.
He knew.
Or Keane had warned him.
Damian took the discovery worse than anything else.
Not because Jonathan was his half brother.
Because Jonathan had worked beside him for six years.
Shared security briefings.
Entered his home.
Protected his businesses.
Probably watched him build Crosswell while knowing exactly what Alexander Cross had intended.
“I promoted him,” Damian said.
We were back in the penthouse.
“I signed his promotion myself.”
“You didn’t know.”
“Apparently that sentence is becoming the story of my life.”
I sat across from him.
“Knowledge isn’t retroactive.”
“What?”
“You don’t become responsible for information you learned today because somebody else knew it yesterday.”
“You should put that on a motivational poster.”
“I charge extra for those.”
He almost smiled.
Then his phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
Video call.
Marcus traced immediately.
Damian answered.
Jonathan appeared.
He resembled Damian around the eyes.
I hadn’t noticed before.
Now I couldn’t stop seeing it.
“Brother,” Jonathan said.
Damian’s face became stone.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Alexander predicted you would say that.”
“Alexander is dead.”
“Our father.”
“Your father too, apparently.”
Jonathan smiled faintly.
“Now you understand.”
“No. I understand Keane raised you to believe biology entitles you to something.”
Samuel Keane appeared behind him.
Damian’s expression hardened.
Keane looked weaker than at Pier Seventeen.
More tired.
“You found the file.”
“You left it.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because time is short.”
“Your cancer.”
Keane’s smile disappeared.
“Pierce talks too much.”
“He almost died.”
“A recurring weakness among disloyal men.”
I felt anger rise.
Damian asked, “What do you want?”
“Greyhaven.”
“What about it?”
“Come.”
“No.”
“You should reconsider.”
Jonathan moved the camera.
A room appeared behind them.
Victor sat tied to a chair.
My heart stopped.
Damian stood.
“When?”
Jonathan smiled.
“Twenty minutes ago.”
I looked toward Marcus.
Victor had left Crosswell to inspect corporate records.
We hadn’t known he was missing.
Damian’s voice became lethal.
“If you hurt him—”
“There it is again,” Keane said.
“Attachment.”
“Release him.”
“Greyhaven. Dawn.”
“What do you want there?”
“Transfer.”
“Of?”
“Northstar.”
Damian laughed without humor.
“I already told you I don’t want it.”
“That is why Jonathan exists.”
The camera turned toward him.
Jonathan looked almost proud.
Keane continued.
“Alexander believed competition revealed strength.”
Damian stared.
“You’re making us compete for a criminal database?”
“For the future.”
“There is no future for Northstar.”
“Then Victor dies.”
Damian’s jaw clenched.
Keane watched his reaction with clinical fascination.
I finally understood what Damian’s childhood records meant.
Dr. Keane had spent decades studying leverage.
Now he was performing one final experiment.
Would Damian choose power?
His friend?
Me?
His organization?
His moral line?
Every scenario had been designed to force a compromise.
“Let me speak to Victor,” Damian said.
The camera moved.
Victor’s lip was split.
Otherwise he appeared conscious.
“Damian.”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
Keane turned the camera slightly.
Victor raised his voice.
“Do not give him Northstar.”
Jonathan struck him.
I flinched.
Damian’s face went completely blank.
The frightening blankness.
Victor coughed.
Then looked directly toward the camera.
“Remember Palermo.”
Damian blinked.
Jonathan frowned.
“What?”
Victor smiled weakly.
“Private joke.”
The call ended.
I looked at Damian.
“Palermo?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Then his eyes changed.
“Victor and I were in Sicily when we were twenty.”
“Vacation?”
“No.”
“Of course not.”
“We were trapped in a warehouse.”
“Why?”
“Long story.”
“What happened?”
“Victor told me if we were ever captured again, we would use city names as codes.”
Marcus stepped closer.
“What does Palermo mean?”
“Stall. They don’t know our location yet.”
“So Victor thinks Keane doesn’t know where we are?”
“No.”
Damian thought.
“Unless he means their location.”
Marcus understood.
“Victor is saying stall because he’s trying to tell us where Greyhaven really is.”
We had assumed Worcester.
Maybe wrong.
Marcus began tracing the video metadata.
Encrypted.
But Victor knew Damian.
He would leave clues.
I replayed the captured recording.
Background.
Concrete wall.
Ventilation.
Electronic hum.
Then something barely audible.
A horn.
Two long blasts.
I paused.
“What?”
“Listen.”
Again.
A deep horn.
Damian frowned.
“Train?”
“No.”
I replayed.
“Ship.”
Marcus looked at the Greyhaven property list.
“Worcester facility isn’t near water.”
“So they aren’t there,” I said.
Greyhaven owned another site.
Former communications facility in Quincy.
Near shipping lanes.
Marcus pulled satellite maps.
One building matched the concrete structure behind Jonathan.
“Found it.”
Damian stood.
“We go now.”
I followed.
He turned.
“No.”
I stared.
He raised one hand.
“Before you begin: Keane wants you specifically. He has studied your influence on me. Bringing you directly into his facility gives him exactly what he wants.”
“That is annoyingly logical.”
“I know.”
“I hate it.”
“I know.”
Marcus tried not to smile.
Damian stepped closer.
“Stay with Rebecca at the secondary safe location.”
“And if you don’t come back?”
“I will.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
His gaze softened.
“It’s the only one I have.”
I reached for him.
He pulled me against his chest.
For several seconds, I heard his heartbeat.
Steady.
Too steady.
“You are afraid,” I whispered.
“Yes.”
It was the first time he admitted it.
“For Victor?”
“For everyone.”
I pulled back.
“Then come back.”
He touched my cheek.
“That sounds suspiciously like an order.”
“It is.”
He kissed my forehead.
Then left.
I watched the elevator close.
At 5:18 a.m., Damian’s convoy headed toward Quincy.
At 5:31, Rebecca and I were moved to a secured apartment under Marcus’s deputy team.
At 5:46, I realized the deputy team leader had a Northstar mark tattooed beneath his watch.
A tiny eight-point star.
I had seen the same mark on Pierce’s documents.
My blood went cold.
He noticed me looking.
His expression changed.
I moved toward Rebecca.
“Bathroom.”
“What?”
“Now.”
We reached the hallway.
The deputy followed.
“Ms. Ellison.”
I ran.
Rebecca ran with me.
A door opened ahead.
Another guard.
Northstar.
We were trapped.
The deputy smiled.
“Dr. Keane thought Mr. Cross might leave you behind.”
My heartbeat pounded.
“He knows him very well.”
The man reached for me.
I threw the nearest object.
A ceramic lamp.
It shattered against his shoulder.
Rebecca screamed.
We reached the stairwell.
Footsteps followed.
Down one floor.
Two.
Then the fire door below opened.
A man stepped through.
I froze.
Ethan Mercer.
He looked at the guards chasing us.
Then at me.
“I assume these aren’t Damian’s?”
“No.”
Mercer smiled without humor.
“Good.”
His men appeared behind him.
The pursuit ended quickly.
Mercer took us to his vehicle.
“You saved us,” Rebecca said.
“I’m developing bad habits.”
I looked at him.
“How did you know?”
“Damian asked me to watch the safe house.”
“When?”
“Before he left.”
Of course.
Damian had anticipated betrayal.
Again.
Mercer handed me a phone.
“One more problem.”
“What?”
“Greyhaven is a trap.”
“How do you know?”
“My daughter remembered something Keane said.”
“What?”
Mercer looked toward the harbor.
“He never intended Damian to leave the building.”
My stomach dropped.
“What does that mean?”
“Greyhaven has a self-destruct fire system.”
“Fire?”
“Industrial suppression. Oxygen displacement.”
I understood instantly.
Gas designed to suffocate fire.
In sealed spaces, it could also suffocate people.
“How long?”
“Once activated?”
Mercer looked at the clock.
“Less than three minutes.”
I grabbed the phone.
Damian didn’t answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Marcus.
Nothing.
Victor.
Obviously nothing.
I looked at Mercer.
“We need to go.”
He nodded.
The vehicle accelerated.
May you like
Dawn began breaking over Boston.
And somewhere inside a sealed facility near Quincy, Damian Cross was walking directly into a room designed to become his tomb.
