Chapter 4 - The Christmas Eve Ransom
The mercenary’s finger began to tighten on the trigger.
But Michael didn't wait. He dropped to his knees, the bullet whizzing past his ear and shattering a priceless Ming dynasty vase behind him. In a single, fluid motion, Michael swept his leg across the floor, catching the mercenary’s ankles and sending him crashing heavily to the marble tiles.
Before the man could recover, Michael brought the butt of his heavy pistol down onto his temple, knocking him unconscious. He quickly stripped the man of his radio, his zip-ties, and his tactical flashlight.
"Michael!" Clara's frantic voice crackled through the earpiece Michael had taken from the mercenary. "Did you hear me? Richard has David! He has his family in Colorado! He’s going to kill them!"
Michael closed his eyes, a deep, agonizing pain tearing through his chest. David was his only remaining sibling. His children were the nieces and nephews he had promised to visit, the ones he had turned down because he was too busy being an "expensive ghost."
"I heard, Clara," Michael said, his voice dropping into a register of sheer, calculated ice. "Put Richard on the main line."
A moment later, Richard's smug voice came through the earpiece. "Ah, Uncle. I see you've still got some fight in you. But let's be realistic. You have nine minutes left. Bring me the Sterling girl’s backup drive, and I’ll call off my men in Colorado. You get to keep your brother, and I get to keep my company. It’s a fair trade."
"And what happens to Clara and Joy?" Michael asked.
"They are... administrative liabilities," Richard said smoothly. "They will be handled. But you don't care about them, do you? They're strangers. You met them in a diner an hour ago. Are you really going to let your own brother's children die for a woman you don't even know?"
Michael looked toward the study where Clara and Joy were hidden. He could see them on the security feed—Clara holding her daughter, weeping silently, her eyes fixed on the speaker, waiting for his decision. She knew what the choice had to be. No one would choose a stranger over their own blood.
"Michael," Clara’s voice broke through the private channel. "Give him the drive. Please. Save your family. I'll... I'll find another way. I can't have their blood on my hands."
Michael stood in the dark corridor, the weight of his entire life pressing down on him. All those years of chasing wealth, of prioritizing his company over his wife, over having children, over his family. It had all led to this moment.
"No," Michael said.
Richard laughed. "No? You're going to let David die?"
"I'm saying no to your terms, Richard," Michael said, his voice ringing with absolute certainty. "I built Patterson Industries from nothing. You think you know my assets, but you don't know my security protocols. The drive Clara has is encrypted with a triple-layer biometric lock. Even if you kill her, you can never open it. Only I can bypass it."
"You're lying," Richard spat, his confidence wavering for the first time.
"Try me," Michael challenged. "I have a private helicopter fueled and ready at the downtown heliport on the Chicago River. We meet there in twenty minutes. You bring your men, I'll bring the drive and the decryption key. We do the swap face-to-face. You call Vail, they release David, and I hand you the key to your empire. If you try to take it by force, I'll initiate a corporate kill-switch that will delete every patent, every bank account, and every asset Patterson Industries owns. You'll be left with nothing but a bankrupt shell."
There was a long, tense silence on the other end of the line.
"Twenty minutes, Uncle," Richard hissed. "If you're one second late, the Colorado cabin burns."
The line went dead.
Michael rushed back to the study, opening the hidden door to the safe room. Clara looked at him, her eyes wide with fear and confusion.
"Michael, what are you doing?" she cried. "There is no corporate kill-switch, is there?"
"No," Michael said, grabbing her backpack and pulling out the drive. "But he doesn't know that. Clara, I need you to do something for me. Your father was a programmer, wasn't he?"
"Yes," Clara said, nodding slowly. "He designed the original encryption software for Patterson Med-Tech."
"Then you know how to duplicate this drive's signature," Michael said, his eyes burning with a desperate plan. "I need you to create a decoy. Something that looks like the master file but contains a localized GPS tracer and a data-wipe virus. When Richard plugs it into his system, it won't just erase his files—it will pinpoint his exact network coordinates and broadcast them directly to the FBI."
Clara looked at him, her fear suddenly transforming into a fierce, determined resolve. "Give me five minutes. I can use the secure terminal in this room."
"Five minutes," Michael said, looking at his watch. "And then, we go to the river."
May you like
HOOK FOR NEXT CHAPTER:
The blizzard raged over the Chicago River as Michael’s black limousine pulled onto the deserted concrete pad of the downtown heliport. But as Michael stepped out of the car, holding the duplicate drive, he saw Richard waiting for him—and Richard wasn't holding a gun. He was holding Joy.
