Chapter 13 - The Blue Room
Federal agents reached The Halcyon at 4:18 a.m.
The club’s attorneys tried to delay entry.
The warrant stopped them.
The twenty-fourth floor contained three private dining rooms.
A wine cellar.
Two offices.
And one unmarked steel door.
Behind it was the Blue Room.
Server racks lined two walls.
Locked cabinets covered another.
A long table stood in the center.
No windows.
No decoration except a large blue abstract painting.
Investigators photographed everything before touching a single item.
The first cabinet contained contracts.
The second contained cash ledgers.
The third contained folders.
Dozens of them.
Each labeled with a name.
Politicians.
Business owners.
Police officers.
Reporters.
Judges.
Military contractors.
Victims.
People the network paid.
People the network threatened.
People the network monitored.
There was a file for Emily.
There was a file for me.
Mine contained the fabricated ethics complaint.
Photographs of my vehicle.
My conference itinerary.
A map of Interstate 85.
And detailed notes about Mile 47.
No one could call it a misunderstanding anymore.
The “accident” had been real.
The plan included a contractor.
A payment.
A vehicle.
A date.
Monday.
Two days away.
Federal agents arrested the contractor before sunrise.
He immediately asked for a lawyer.
Then they opened Emily’s file.
She was listed under an internal category.
ACCESS.
Her relationship with Ethan had indeed begun as part of a plan to gain proximity to me.
But the notes changed over time.
YEAR ONE.
SUBJECT UNAWARE.
YEAR TWO.
MARRIAGE USEFUL.
YEAR THREE.
E.H. BECOMING UNRELIABLE.
Then six months ago.
E.P. HAS SEEN FINANCIAL RECORDS.
Then three months ago.
CONTAINMENT MAY BE NECESSARY.
Emily read the lines without speaking.
I watched her face.
The pain was deeper than anger now.
Her entire marriage had been summarized in cold administrative language.
Then Dana opened another folder.
ETHAN PRESCOTT.
Inside were surveillance reports on Ethan himself.
The network had been watching him too.
One report described Ethan meeting secretly with a federal prosecutor nine months earlier.
Emily stared at it.
“What?”
Dana read the page twice.
“According to this, Ethan considered cooperating.”
“Against his family?”
“Apparently.”
Another note.
E.P. LOSING NERVE.
Another.
MOTHER SUSPECTS DISLOYALTY.
Then a final line.
USE WIFE IF NECESSARY.
Emily looked sick.
“So I was leverage against him too.”
“Yes.”
“Did he know?”
“We don’t know.”
That question haunted everything.
Ethan had abused Emily.
Nothing could erase that.
But the files suggested he had also become trapped inside the same network he helped maintain.
Victim and abuser were not mutually exclusive.
Fear did not excuse what he had done.
But it could explain why the situation had escalated.
Agents continued searching.
Then Marcus called Dana from the far side of the room.
“You need to see this.”
A hidden compartment had been discovered behind the blue painting.
Inside was a portable hard drive.
And a handwritten list.
Seven names.
Six were crossed out.
Sarah Bell was one.
Beside her name was the word SILENCED.
The only name not crossed out was Emily’s.
Beside hers were two words.
MONDAY NIGHT.
I looked at the date.
Monday.
The same day as the planned accident involving me.
The network had intended to eliminate both of us within hours.
Emily stared at her name.
Then she whispered.
“They weren’t trying to scare us.”
“No.”
I put my arm around her.
“They were ending the problem.”
Dana’s phone rang.
She answered.
Her face changed.
“What?”
She listened.
Then looked toward us.
A patrol officer had just found Ethan Prescott.
He was unconscious inside a parked car beneath an overpass.
May you like
And taped to his chest was a note.
TRAITORS DON’T GET SECOND CHANCES.
