Chapter 25 - The Ghost Returns
By morning, the storm had cleared, leaving behind a blinding sheet of white snow that stretched across the frozen dunes of Lake Michigan.
Michael Reed stood by the frosted window, holding a cup of instant coffee and staring out toward the highway. “Boss, we have movement about a mile down the access road. A single vehicle. Looks like an unmarked sedan.”
I stepped up beside him, peering through the crack in the heavy wooden shutters. A black Lincoln Navigator was creeping slowly down the unplowed road, its tires kicking up plumes of powdery snow. It stopped about two hundred yards from the lighthouse.
The driver’s side door opened, and a solitary figure stepped out into the freezing wind.
It wasn't Viktor. And it wasn't one of his mercenaries.
It was Rebecca—Elizabeth’s younger sister.
“Rebecca?” Elizabeth gasped, rushing toward the door before I could stop her.
“Wait,” I warned, pulling my Sig Sauer and stepping in front of her. “It could be a tail.”
“She wouldn't lead them here,” Elizabeth insisted, pushing past me and throwing the heavy wooden door open.
The freezing wind rushed into the cabin as Rebecca hurried up the steps, shivering violently in a heavy parka, her face red from the cold. She slammed the door shut behind her, leaning against it to catch her breath.
“Thank God,” Rebecca breathed, looking directly at Elizabeth. “I didn't think I’d ever find you.”
“How did you track us?” I demanded, keeping the pistol pointed toward the floor but ready.
“I didn't track you,” Rebecca snapped back, glaring at me with undisguised hostility. “I tracked Viktor’s communications. He’s panicked. The federal task force raided his Lake Forest estate last night after an anonymous tip dropped all of his secondary laundering accounts into the hands of the FBI.”
I blinked, looking from Rebecca to Elizabeth. “An anonymous tip? I didn't send anything to the Feds.”
Elizabeth slowly shook her head, a grim smile touching her lips. “I did. Before we left the penthouse three months ago, I set a delayed trigger on my personal terminal. If I didn't input a safety code every thirty days, all of Viktor’s primary files automatically uploaded to federal servers.”
Michael let out a low whistle from the corner. “Well, damn. You really did plan for every contingency, didn't you?”
“Viktor is hunting for both of us,” Rebecca continued, stepping closer to the fire to warm her hands. “And he’s desperate. He knows if the DOJ uncovers the rest of his network, his own syndicate will tear him apart from the inside. He’s offering a deal.”
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“A deal?” I narrowed my eyes. “Viktor doesn't negotiate.”
“He does when he’s cornered,” Rebecca replied, pulling a folded manila envelope from her coat pocket and tossing it onto the wooden table. “He wants to trade. Your freedom, your old warehouse district, and safe passage out of the country... in exchange for the flash drive.”
