Chapter 23 - The Warehouse North of Dublin
The Weston European Logistics complex had been abandoned for eighteen months.
Mercer chose it because he assumed Emma had forgotten it.
Emma remembered every asset she owned.
Especially the useless ones.
The facility had four entrances, three underground utility corridors, and an automated fire-control system connected to a remote operations network.
Liam discovered the network still accepted Vance Global administrator credentials.
“You can control the building?” Emma asked.
“Lights, ventilation, loading doors, internal shutters.”
Thomas looked over.
“Cameras?”
“Most.”
Emma studied the floor plan.
“Then we don’t storm anything.”
Thomas frowned.
“My son is inside.”
“And so are Moira and her daughter. A gunfight is exactly what Gideon wants.”
Irish authorities had tactical units positioned two miles away, but Emma refused to authorize an entry until they knew precisely where the hostages were.
Liam activated the cameras.
Dark corridors appeared.
Three guards.
Then six.
Then nine.
Finally they found Moira and her daughter on the second floor.
Nicholas Sterling was in another room.
Thomas touched the monitor.
Emma saw the resemblance immediately.
Same eyes.
Same rigid posture.
“Is he hurt?”
“No visible injuries.”
“Where’s Gideon?”
Liam switched cameras.
Nothing.
Thomas swore.
“He’s not there.”
Emma understood.
“The warehouse is another performance.”
Her phone rang.
Gideon.
She answered.
“You found the building.”
Emma smiled coldly.
“You wanted me to.”
“Good girl.”
Thomas flinched at the phrase.
Mercer continued.
“Send Evelyn inside carrying the tapes.”
“She’s not coming.”
“Then people die.”
“No.”
Silence.
Emma leaned toward the screen.
“You’ve spent thirty years surrounding yourself with people who obey because they’re afraid. That’s why you keep misunderstanding us.”
Mercer’s smile faded.
“Us?”
“Everybody you think belongs to you.”
Emma looked at Liam.
He pressed a key.
Every light inside the warehouse died.
Mercer’s guards began shouting.
Emergency shutters slammed down, separating hallways.
Fire alarms activated.
Ventilation fans roared.
Thomas watched his son’s camera.
A wall panel slid open.
Nicholas looked up.
Emma had discovered the original building plans contained hidden maintenance corridors designed for electrical crews.
“Go,” Emma whispered.
Irish tactical officers entered through the tunnels.
Within ninety seconds, they reached Moira.
Two minutes later, Nicholas.
Three guards surrendered.
Four were arrested.
Two escaped into the yard and were captured at the perimeter.
No shots fired.
Thomas watched Nicholas emerge from the building.
His shoulders dropped.
For the first time Emma saw him cry.
Gideon was still on the phone.
His expression had become murderous.
“You think this changes anything?”
Emma smiled.
“It changes three things.”
“What?”
“Moira is free.”
Thomas looked toward the live feed of Nicholas being embraced by officers.
“Nicholas is free.”
Emma paused.
“And now I know you’re not nearly as clever as my grandfather thought you were.”
Mercer disconnected.
When Emma reached the hospital, Moira was sitting beside her daughter.
She looked devastated.
“I should have told you.”
“Yes.”
“I thought I could handle him.”
“So did everybody.”
Emma sat beside her.
Moira explained that her daughter, Maeve, had been born during a relationship she kept private. Gideon had discovered her existence only recently.
“He told me if I didn’t provide information, he would hurt her.”
“What did you give him?”
“Board schedules.”
“Anything else?”
“Your travel.”
Emma’s chest tightened.
“Arthur’s locations?”
Moira began crying.
“No. Never.”
Emma believed her.
“Then who did?”
Moira wiped her face.
“I don’t know.”
Thomas entered.
Nicholas was safe.
Then Liam called.
His voice was urgent.
“Emma, we recovered Mercer’s warehouse server.”
“And?”
“There’s a directory labeled ARTHUR.”
Emma stood.
“What’s inside?”
“Surveillance photographs.”
“We know that.”
“No.”
Liam’s voice changed.
“These are older.”
“How old?”
“Some were taken before Arthur was born.”
Emma frowned.
“That’s impossible.”
Then Liam said something that made the entire room go silent.
“They’re not photographs of your son.”
“Who are they?”
“You.”
May you like
Emma’s skin went cold.
“As a child.”
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