Chapter 8 - The Trap Closes
The diner air felt suddenly heavy, pressing down on my chest until every breath required deliberate effort. I looked across the table at the federal agent who was sleeping with my wife—the man who was protecting my children while I had spent years destroying the foundation they stood on.
"Where are Lauren and the kids?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"They're secure at a federal safe house on the north side of the city," Andrew replied, his tone softening just a fraction. "They're safe for now. But Chloe’s associates tracked your car when you left your house this morning. They know you met with that messenger, and they know you're the missing link."
"So what do we do?" I asked, feeling a strange, hollow sense of surrender. "How do we end this?"
"We give them what they think they want," Andrew said, pulling a small, encrypted flash drive from his breast pocket and placing it gently on the table between us. "This drive contains a mirror copy of the syndicate's financial records—minus the encryption keys that protect their primary offshore accounts. If we hand this over to them, they'll believe they've recovered their leverage."
"And what happens to us?"
"Once they take the bait, the strike team moves in and arrests every single operative involved," Andrew said firmly. "Including Chloe."
Before I could answer, the bell above the diner door jingled sharply.
May you like
Three men in dark jackets walked in, their eyes scanning the room instantly before locking directly onto our booth. They didn't look like ordinary thugs; they moved with the cold, calculated precision of professional mercenaries.
"They're here," Andrew whispered, his hand sliding quietly toward his jacket pocket. "Stay calm, James. Whatever you do, don't break character."
