Chapter 3 - Marshaling the Forces
The next morning,
the sun rose over the coast in a brilliant burst of orange,
but I was already awake.
I was in a safe house,
a modern apartment with high-security locks and reinforced glass.
My father was in the kitchen,
talking on a satellite phone,
his voice low and commanding.
"I want a full audit of Miller Group’s last three fiscal years,"
he was saying.
"Check the signatures against the samples I sent."
"I want a deep dive on Paige Miller’s medical licensing,"
"and I want to know who Brenda Miller has been calling for the last week."
He hung up and looked at me,
gesturing to the breakfast on the table.
"Eat,
Samantha."
"You'll need your energy for the meeting."
Ten minutes later,
the doorbell rang.
My father opened it to reveal a woman in a sharp navy suit.
She carried a leather briefcase and moved with the speed of a bullet.
"Samantha,"
my father said,
"this is Sarah Vance."
"She was the head of the Navy’s legal council for twelve years."
"Now,
she is the person who makes people like Logan Miller disappear from the business world."
Sarah sat down across from me,
opening her laptop.
"I’ve already seen the photos of the signatures,"
she began,
her voice crisp and professional.
"It’s not even a good forgery."
"He was arrogant,
Samantha."
"He assumed you would never look,"
"and he assumed that if you did,
he could scare you into silence."
She pulled up a document on the screen.
"We’ve discovered that the house you inherited from your mother"
"is the only collateral he has left for his current project."
"If he loses that house,
his entire company defaults by Friday."
"He didn't just want the house because he’s greedy,"
"he wanted it because he’s drowning."
My father sat next to me,
his eyes fixed on the screen.
"What about the videos Brenda mentioned?"
I asked,
my voice trembling.
"The ones she said would make me look insane?"
Sarah's expression softened just a fraction.
"We’ve already sent a specialized digital forensic team to the house's cloud server."
"My father’s 'friends' are very good at what they do."
"If those videos exist,
we will have them by noon."
"And if they show what I suspect they show,"
"which is them baiting you and filming your reactions,"
"then they aren't evidence of your insanity."
"They are evidence of their conspiracy to commit fraud and kidnapping."
I looked at the two of them,
the Captain and the Lawyer.
They were a wall of steel between me and the nightmare I had escaped.
"What's the first step?"
I asked.
My father looked at his watch.
"Logan will be calling the station today,"
"looking for me,"
"playing the worried husband."
"Sarah has drafted a script for the receptionist."
"We are going to let him believe you are still missing,"
"let him sweat for another few hours."
"Then,
we invite him to a meeting."
"Not at his house,"
"not at his office."
"But at the lawyer's office,
under the neutral flag."
"He’ll bring Brenda and Paige,"
"thinking they can overwhelm you."
"He doesn't realize he’s walking into a kill zone."
I felt a surge of adrenaline.
For years,
I had been the prey.
Now,
for the first time,
I was part of the hunt.
"I want to be there,"
I said.
My father smiled,
a rare,
grim expression.
"Oh,
you’ll be there,
May you like
Samantha."
"You’re the one who’s going to deliver the final blow."
