Chapter 4 - THE BETRAYAL WITHINJean-Pierre’s chief of operations, Marcus, was the only man he trusted. Marcus had been with him for fifteen years, a man of unwavering loyalty. Or so he thought.
"Sir," Marcus said, entering the study with a glass of scotch. "The police have confirmed. There was a car crash in Brighton three hours ago. A woman matching Amelia’s description. She didn't survive."
Jean-Pierre’s hands gripped the edge of the desk so hard his knuckles turned white.
"They’re dead, Marcus," Jean-Pierre said, his voice a flat, dead thing. "All of them. The woman, the evidence."
"I’m sorry, Jean-Pierre," Marcus said, taking a sip of his drink.
But Jean-Pierre noticed something. Marcus was left-handed. The micro-SD card Leia had given him had a faint scratch on the corner—the same kind of scratch he’d seen on Marcus’s desk lighter earlier that morning.
The realization hit him like a physical blow. Marcus wasn't a loyal employee. He was the architect.
"Marcus," Jean-Pierre said softly, "would you like to see what’s on this card?"
Marcus froze. His hand went to his waistband—to the concealed weapon he always carried.
"I don't think that’s a good idea, sir."
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"I think it’s a brilliant idea," Jean-Pierre said, his finger hovering over the fireplace lighter. "Because if I drop this into the fire, the encryption key is gone forever. And you’ll never get what you’re looking for."
Marcus stepped forward, his face twisting into a sneer. "You’re an old man, Jean-Pierre. Give me the card, and I’ll make sure the children are… taken care of."
