Chapter 6 - A Sister's Line in the Sand
Gabriel knelt beside her on the cold concrete floor. The beam of his tactical flashlight illuminated the yellowed pages as Claire turned the cover.
Inside were hundreds of handwritten entries, meticulous and devastating. Dates, cashier's check numbers, offshore wire routing codes, and copies of transfer receipts bearing the official corporate seal of the Mercer Foundation. Tucked into the back pocket of the ledger were four pristine photographic negatives showing Julian Vance standing in the very room they were in, handing a thick envelope of cash across the workbench to a man whose face had been circled in red ink: Detective Robert Miller, Pittsburgh Police Zone 2.
"Your father wasn't just keeping notes," Gabriel said, his voice dropping into a register so dark it made the hair on Claire's neck rise. "He was building a federal RICO indictment."
"He was trying to protect us," Claire said, tears blurring the handwritten numbers. "He wrote a note on the inside flap. Look."
Gabriel read the short paragraph written in pencil:
'If anything happens to Sarah and me, give this book directly to Gabriel Mercer. Not his father. Not the board. Gabriel is the only one whose hands aren't in the till. He’s young, he’s arrogant, but he has his mother's blood. He will burn the house down before he lets thieves run it.'
Gabriel was silent for a long time. His fingers gently traced the faded pencil marks. "Your father knew me when I was twenty-four. I thought he was just another stubborn vendor who refused to update his invoices."
"He respected you," Claire said, wiping her face with the back of her greasy hand, leaving a smudge of ink across her cheek. "He told me once that the Mercer family ran Pittsburgh like a kingdom, but Gabriel was the only prince who actually worked the steel yards before he took the throne."
Before Gabriel could reply, his encrypted satellite phone vibrated in his vest pocket. He pulled it out and tapped the speaker.
"Sir," Marcus’s voice crackled through the small speaker, strained and rapid. "We have a situation on Mount Washington."
Gabriel was on his feet in half a second, his entire demeanor shifting into lethal readiness. "Report."
"Three vehicles boxed us in on Boggs Avenue. They didn't engage with firearms; they used a flatbed tow truck to pin the SUV against the hillside. Julian Vance is on site personally. He’s got four armed private security contractors with him. They pulled Mason out of the back seat."
Claire felt the blood drain completely from her face. She surged to her feet, grabbing Gabriel’s lapels with both hands. "No! No, no, no! Mason!"
"Is the boy alive?" Gabriel demanded into the phone, his grip firm on Claire’s wrists, keeping her from collapsing.
"He's alive, sir," Marcus answered, breathing heavily through what sounded like broken ribs. "Julian took his phone. He used it to send an address. Sir, he’s heading for the scrap terminal at Neville Island. He said to tell you: Bring the Bennett book, or the kid goes into the industrial shredder before the shift change at five."
The line went dead.
Claire’s knees gave out. Gabriel caught her effortlessly, pulling her up against his chest, his arms like iron bands around her trembling frame.
"He has my brother," Claire sobbed, the sheer terror choking her throat. "Gabriel, he’s going to kill him. Just like he killed my parents. Give him the book! Take the book and give it to him! I don't care about the company, I don't care about the money, I just want Mason!"
Gabriel held her face between his large, warm hands, forcing her to look directly into his eyes. His gaze was terrifyingly calm, like the center of a hurricane.
"Listen to me, Claire," he commanded softly. "If we hand Julian that book, he will kill Mason, he will kill you, and he will spend the rest of his life burning every scrap of evidence in this state. Men like Julian don't leave witnesses when they're backed into a corner."
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"Then what do we do?" she cried, her fingers digging into his forearms.
"We go to Neville Island," Gabriel said, sliding the ledger inside his coat pocket and pulling the charging handle on his weapon once more. "And I remind Julian Vance why nobody touches what belongs to me."
