Chapter 7 - CheckmateThe federal interrogation room smelled of ozone, stale coffee, and fluorescent light hum.
Behind the two-way mirror, Uncle Alan, Chloe, and I stood in total silence, watching the monitor as Edric Kaine was led into the room in an orange jumpsuit, heavy ankle shackles clinking against the concrete floor.
Edric looked older. The arrogant glow had completely vanished from his eyes, replaced by a hunted, paranoid twitch. He sat down heavily at the metal table, expecting his hired fixer, expecting good news about the penthouse mission.
Instead, the door opened, and federal prosecutor Sarah Vance walked in, tossing a thick manila folder onto the center of the table with a sharp slap.
Edric sneered, leaning back in his chair. "I want my phone call. And I want my lawyer. You have nothing on me. I've been locked in solitary for three weeks."
"Have you?" prosecutor Vance asked smoothly, sitting down and opening the folder. She slid a single glossy 8x10 photograph across the table toward him.
Edric glanced down at the photo, and every bit of color drained from his face.
It was a clear, high-definition screenshot of the encrypted burner phone he had smuggled into his cell block, showing an active satellite text conversation between him and The Broker.
"Conspiring to commit kidnapping and murder across state lines," prosecutor Vance said, her voice like cold steel. "Plus the original wire fraud, embezzlement, and racketeering charges. Edric, your fixer was intercepted by federal agents forty minutes before he ever reached the penthouse. He sang like a canary the second the cuffs clicked on."
Edric slammed his fists against the table, leaping to his feet. "It's a setup! Those ungrateful little bitches framed me! They manipulated everything!"
"Sit down, Edric," a cold, commanding voice echoed from the doorway.
The observation room door opened, and Uncle Alan stepped into the interrogation room, closing the heavy steel door behind him. He walked slowly toward the table, stopping just inches from Edric’s face.
Edric stared at Alan, his eyes widening in sudden, dawning horror. "You... you're not just an engineer. You're..."
"Director Morgan, Federal Intelligence Division, retired," Alan finished smoothly. "When my brother died, I didn't just walk away, Edric. I left a digital shadow across every asset, every account, and every criminal associate you ever touched. We let you dig your own grave, inch by inch, until you finally tried to bury my nieces."
Edric trembled, his knees buckling beneath him as reality finally crashed down with catastrophic weight. There was no escape. No loophole. No way out.
"Take him away," prosecutor Vance instructed quietly.
Two armed guards grabbed Edric by the shoulders, hauling him kicking and screaming out of the room as his desperate curses faded down the sterile hallway.
May you like
Alan watched him leave, letting out a long, slow breath. He turned around, walking back through the connecting door into the observation room where Chloe and I stood waiting.
"It's over, girls," Alan said softly, wrapping his arms around us once more. "He's never coming back. Not ever."
