Chapter 9 - THE VOICE FROM THE GRAVEVance froze. The pistol in his hand wavered by an inch. His head snapped up toward the overhead intercom speakers.
"Who's that?" Vance snarled, his face twisting into a mask of pure panic. "Show yourself!"
"You can't arrest a ghost, Victor," the voice echoed through the subterranean chamber, rich, resonant, and entirely alive. "Especially when that ghost owns the regulatory commission you tried to bribe."
Across the vault, the main security monitor flickered from a static screensaver to a live video feed routed directly from a secure federal courtroom in Washington D.C.
On the screen sat the Director of the FBI, flanked by three senior congressional investigators and—sitting right in the center, wearing a sharp, dark suit and looking older, weathered, but entirely real—Nathan Hawthorne.
Ava staggered backward, her hand flying to her mouth, her eyes glued to the screen.
"Nathan..." she choked out, tears finally breaking free, streaming down her face not in grief, but in absolute, shattering shock.
On the screen, Nathan looked directly into the camera lens, his eyes locking onto Ava with an ocean of unspoken love. Then, he shifted his gaze to the armed men standing in the Denver vault.
"Federal agents are currently surrounding your safehouse in Georgetown, Victor, and three of your shell company accounts in the Caymans have just been frozen," Nathan said, his voice cold and authoritative. "Drop the weapon or spend the rest of your natural life in a supermax cell."
Vance’s face turned the color of ash. His hand shook violently. He looked at the screen, then at Ava, then back at the heavy steel doors behind him, where the unmistakable sound of federal sirens began wailing from the street above.
With a curse of pure venom, Vance dropped the pistol onto the marble floor, raising his hands in defeat as the four tactical operatives stepped back, their weapons clattering down beside him.
Within seconds, federal marshals streamed through the service entrance, swarming the vault and pinning Vance to the polished stone floor in a flurry of tactical cuffs and shouted orders.
Ava stood motionless in the center of the chaos, her eyes locked on the monitor.
May you like
On the screen, Nathan smiled—a small, tired, incredibly real smile.
"I'm sorry it took so long, Ava," Nathan’s voice whispered through the speakers. "You kept the company alive. Now... let me help you live."
