Chapter 6 - The Invoice That Didn’t Exist
Miriam refused to connect Tommy’s flash drive to any computer that had ever touched Roman Vale’s network.
Instead, she bought a new laptop with cash from an electronics store near the airport.
“No Wi-Fi,” she said.
Roman nodded.
“No Bluetooth.”
Another nod.
Chloe watched.
“You two have done this before.”
Miriam glanced at Roman.
“Unfortunately.”
The drive contained six folders.
MARSTEN.
V FREIGHT.
RUSSO.
GABRIEL.
M.V.
And NORTHSTAR.
Roman did not immediately open the folder marked with his brother’s initials.
Chloe noticed.
She said nothing.
They began with MARSTEN.
Hundreds of scanned invoices appeared.
Chloe recognized the formatting immediately.
“These are ours.”
“Yours?” Roman asked.
“Marsten’s.”
She opened one.
At first glance it looked ordinary.
Building maintenance.
Structural repairs.
Emergency plumbing.
Then she saw the vendor.
Gallagher Restoration Services.
“That company doesn’t exist.”
“Tommy’s?”
“He had Gallagher Auto & Body.”
Chloe compared more invoices.
All paid to different names.
Different bank accounts.
But the invoice numbering sequence was continuous.
“This is one company pretending to be twelve.”
Roman leaned closer.
“Can you prove that?”
“The numbering proves whoever created them used the same template database.”
“How?”
“Real vendors generate invoices separately. You wouldn’t get invoice 8721 from one company and 8722 from another unrelated company on the same afternoon.”
Miriam smiled.
“That sounds useful.”
“It gets better.”
Chloe opened metadata from the scanned files.
The creator field showed MPS-ARCHIVE-04.
“That’s a Marsten terminal.”
“Who uses it?”
“Archive department.”
“Names?”
“Three people officially.”
“And unofficially?”
Chloe thought.
“The senior accounting managers have override access.”
“Do you?”
“No.”
Roman asked, “Gabriel?”
“Not unless somebody gave him credentials.”
They searched the files.
One authorization appeared repeatedly.
ALAN PIKE.
Chloe knew him.
Chief financial officer at Marsten Property Services.
A man who sent birthday cards to employees.
A man who once congratulated Chloe for reducing overdue accounts.
A man whose office displayed photographs of his grandchildren.
She felt sick.
“Pike.”
Roman looked at her.
“You know him?”
“He signs my annual reviews.”
Miriam wrote down the name.
They opened V FREIGHT.
The fraud expanded.
Payments leaving Roman’s legitimate businesses were redirected through property-service accounts, then returned as loans from shell companies.
For years.
Small amounts at first.
Then millions.
Frank Russo had not been preparing a sudden takeover.
He had been slowly constructing one.
“What if you hadn’t found this?” Chloe asked.
Roman remained focused on the screen.
“I would have eventually.”
“When?”
“Too late, apparently.”
The honesty surprised her.
They opened GABRIEL.
Roman’s face closed.
Emails.
Encrypted message exports.
Photographs of documents.
Most showed Gabriel communicating with someone identified only as FR.
Frank Russo.
The earliest dated back eleven years.
One year after Michael Vale died.
Chloe looked toward Roman.
“You don’t have to read this now.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t.”
He looked at her.
She continued gently.
“You’re allowed five minutes before becoming Roman Vale again.”
For several seconds he said nothing.
Then he stood and walked toward the window.
Miriam watched him go.
Chloe lowered her voice.
“What happened to Michael?”
Miriam answered.
“He was twenty-seven.”
“That young?”
“He believed Roman and their father had become too comfortable with men like Frank Russo.”
“Criminals.”
“Yes.”
“Was Roman—”
Miriam held up a hand.
“Roman did things he isn’t proud of. He’ll tell you himself if he chooses.”
Chloe nodded.
“Michael wanted out?”
“He wanted the family businesses completely legitimate.”
“Did Roman?”
“Not then.”
Chloe looked at the folder marked M.V.
Roman returned.
“Open it.”
Chloe hesitated.
“You sure?”
“No.”
She clicked anyway.
The folder contained one video.
The date was twelve years earlier.
Michael Vale appeared on screen.
He looked like Roman.
Younger.
Softer.
The recording had been made inside a warehouse office.
“If you’re watching this,” Michael said, “then Gabriel was right and I’m being paranoid…”
He smiled nervously.
Roman sat down.
Michael continued.
“I found transfers from V Freight into companies tied to Russo. Gabriel says they’re sanctioned. Roman, if that’s true, then tell me yourself.”
Roman whispered, “They weren’t.”
The video continued.
“I copied the property files Dad kept off-books. I’m moving them tonight because somebody accessed the vault.”
Michael looked behind him.
“I’m using the old emergency routing system. The one Dad called the North Star because it always gave us a way home.”
Chloe inhaled.
Northstar.
Not Frank’s name.
Roman’s father’s.
Michael continued.
“If something happens to me, find the route.”
The video ended.
Nobody moved.
Roman stared at the black screen.
“Michael created Northstar.”
Chloe nodded.
“To protect the documents.”
Roman looked at the invoice.
Frank had taken Michael’s emergency route and converted it into the mechanism for stealing the Vale holdings.
That was not only theft.
It was mockery.
Miriam opened the NORTHSTAR folder.
There was one spreadsheet.
Password protected.
Chloe tried Tommy’s birthday.
Wrong.
Gallagher.
Wrong.
Frank Russo.
Wrong.
Roman said, “Michael.”
Wrong.
Then Chloe remembered Tommy’s note.
Eleven eighteen isn’t just the date.
She entered 1118.
The spreadsheet opened.
Rows appeared.
Properties.
Corporate entities.
Account numbers.
Transfer dates.
And one final column.
DESTINATION.
Most were blank.
The last row showed:
NORTHSTAR MASTER ARCHIVE
ROUTE: V-17
DESTINATION: HARBOR 6
RELEASE: 11/18 — 06:00
Roman stood.
“Harbor 6.”
“What is it?” Chloe asked.
“Old V Freight terminal.”
“Still yours?”
“No.”
“Whose?”
Roman read the spreadsheet twice.
Then answered.
“Marsten Property Services.”
Chloe stared at him.
“My company owns it?”
“Apparently.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“You weren’t supposed to.”
Miriam pointed to another column.
“Look.”
AUTHORIZED SIGNATORY:
GABRIEL KANE.
Roman stared.
Then Chloe saw the note beneath it.
SECONDARY AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED.
C. BENNETT.
Her heart stopped.
“What?”
Roman read it again.
Chloe moved closer.
“No.”
Her employee identification number appeared beside her name.
“That’s impossible.”
Miriam asked, “Can someone use your credentials?”
“To approve invoices, maybe. Not property transfers.”
“Could Pike authorize you?”
“No.”
“Could he fake it?”
Chloe shook her head.
“For certain transfers, the system requires biometric confirmation.”
Roman looked at her.
“What kind?”
“Voice and facial verification.”
Silence.
Chloe understood.
“They need me alive.”
Roman nodded slowly.
“That may be why Frank’s men chased you instead of hurting you.”
Her skin crawled.
“They’re going to use me to release Northstar.”
Roman looked at the clock.
November eighteenth was now forty-eight hours away.
Then Miriam pointed at the bottom of the spreadsheet.
One line had just appeared.
The supposedly offline file contained an embedded timer.
47:51:12.
47:51:11.
47:51:10.
Chloe stared.
“What happens when that reaches zero?”
Roman’s eyes remained on the countdown.
“The transfer executes.”
“And if Gabriel has my authorization?”
“He takes control.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
Roman looked at her.
“Then he’ll come looking for it.”
The hotel room suddenly felt much less anonymous.
Chloe glanced toward the door.
At that exact moment, somebody knocked.
Three slow taps.
Roman’s face changed.
Nobody spoke.
Then a familiar voice came from the hallway.
“Chloe?”
Tommy.
Her eyes widened.
Roman raised one finger for silence.
Another knock.
“Chlo, please.”
She moved toward the door.
Roman caught her wrist gently.
“No.”
“That’s Tommy.”
“I know.”
“He escaped.”
“Or Frank sent him.”
Tommy knocked again.
Then said something that froze both of them.
“Roman, Gabriel knows about Michael’s video.”
Roman released Chloe.
Outside, Tommy lowered his voice.
May you like
“And if you don’t let me in, none of us are making it to November eighteenth.”
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