Chapter 23 - Clara Became the Trap
I rejected Clara’s plan immediately.
“No.”
She folded her arms.
“You haven’t heard it.”
“You want to use yourself as bait.”
“See? You heard it.”
“No.”
Agent Sloan looked between us.
“I’m technically in charge of this investigation, and I’m also uncomfortable with how quickly Dr. Reed suggested this.”
Clara pointed at the Operation Widow documents.
“They already intend to target me. We can either wait for them to choose the place or make them believe they chose it.”
Lawrence rubbed his forehead.
“I miss ordinary security work.”
Clara had a point.
I hated that.
Her medical foundation’s annual pediatric research gala was scheduled three nights later at Bellweather Country Club.
The same place where my old life had exploded.
It was public enough to tempt Thomas and Raymond.
Controlled enough for federal security.
And emotionally significant enough that they might believe I would lower my guard.
“I still hate it,” I said.
Clara smiled.
“That’s marriage.”
Bellweather looked different when we returned.
Maybe the building had not changed.
Maybe I had.
The terrace where Preston threw my keys into the pool was decorated with white lights and medical-foundation banners.
Hundreds of guests filled the ballroom.
Researchers.
Donors.
Doctors.
Business leaders.
I arrived in Blue Thunder.
Clara wore a simple midnight-blue gown.
When we entered, cameras flashed.
This time I wasn’t the quiet husband being mocked.
I was the publicly investigated founder whose name had not yet been fully cleared.
Whispers followed us.
Clara squeezed my hand.
“Smile.”
“Why?”
“Because guilty men hate when their victims look happy.”
So I smiled.
The gala began normally.
At 8:40 p.m., Clara gave a speech about children receiving experimental neurological care.
At 8:52, Lawrence reported suspicious movement near the service corridor.
At 8:57, the building lost power.
Screams rippled through the ballroom.
Emergency lights came on.
I looked toward the stage.
Clara was gone.
My heart stopped.
“LAWRENCE!”
“I’m tracking her!”
A security feed appeared on his tablet.
Two figures wearing catering uniforms had pulled Clara through a rear corridor.
Federal teams moved.
Then every electronic lock in Bellweather slammed shut simultaneously.
Thomas.
He had compromised the building system.
“Remote override isn’t responding,” Lawrence said.
I pulled Dad’s Lazarus interface from my jacket.
“Then we go analog.”
Bellweather used Meridian security hardware.
I knew every mechanical fail-safe.
We opened the service doors manually.
Clara’s tracker moved toward the underground garage.
We ran.
By the time we reached it, one vehicle was speeding toward the exit.
Raymond sat behind the wheel.
Clara was in the back seat.
Thomas rode beside him.
They smashed through the outer gate.
Lawrence reached for his radio.
“Federal pursuit!”
I ran toward Blue Thunder.
“Marcus!”
“I’m not waiting.”
Lawrence jumped into the passenger side.
“You are the worst client I have ever protected.”
“I thought we were friends now.”
“That makes it worse.”
We chased them onto the highway.
Rain began falling.
Of course it did.
The same weather Dad died in.
Raymond’s vehicle accelerated.
Thomas attempted another remote attack.
Blue Thunder’s dashboard flickered.
Then stabilized.
Lazarus held.
Ahead, their SUV suddenly swerved.
Clara was fighting.
I could see movement through the rear window.
The vehicle slowed.
Then the rear door opened.
My heart nearly stopped.
Clara pushed Thomas outward.
He caught the door frame.
The SUV fishtailed.
Lawrence stared.
“Your wife is terrifying.”
“I know.”
Clara slammed the door.
Raymond lost control.
The SUV spun across two lanes and crashed into the highway barrier.
Blue Thunder stopped fifty yards away.
Federal vehicles surrounded the wreck.
I ran.
Clara climbed out through the rear door.
I grabbed her.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You pushed Thomas out of a moving vehicle.”
“He tried to stab me.”
“That was not my question.”
She kissed me.
Hard.
Then whispered, “Later.”
Agents pulled Raymond from the driver’s seat.
Thomas crawled from the roadside ditch.
Both were alive.
Both were arrested.
As Raymond passed me in handcuffs, he smiled.
“You think you won.”
“I’m starting to notice guilty men say that a lot.”
His smile widened.
“Ask your wife what I told her in the car.”
I looked at Clara.
Her face had changed.
“What?”
She waited until Raymond was gone.
May you like
Then said quietly:
“He told me your father wasn’t their first victim.”
