Chapter 34 - The Mole in the Sanctuary
The pouring rain battered the windshield of our armored SUV as Julian killed the headlights, coasting into the rusted shadows of Sterling Shipping Depot 4. The cavernous warehouse smelled of diesel and rotting timber, long abandoned since the government seized Arthur's shell companies.
Through night-vision binoculars, we spotted Evelyn’s silver sedan parked beneath a flickering halogen floodlight. She was pacing beside the driver’s side door, clutching a black leather briefcase, nervously glancing at her watch every five seconds.
"Wait here with Leo in the vehicle," Julian whispered, unholstering his weapon. "I'll secure the perimeter."
"No," I replied firmly. "She knows you as head of security. If she sees you first, she might swallow a cyanide pill or trigger an alarm. She thinks I am a grieving mother hiding under a blanket. I confront her."
Julian hesitated, then nodded solemnly, signaling two undercover operators to shadow my flank from the rafters.
I stepped out into the freezing rain, my boots splashing softly across the oily puddles.
"Evelyn," I called out, my voice cutting through the patter of the storm.
Evelyn jumped, letting out a shriek as she dropped her briefcase. Cash documents and forged passports spilled into the muddy water. She looked up, her face pale as a ghost, her designer makeup running down her cheeks.
"Clara! How... how did you find me?" she stammered, stepping back until her spine pressed hard against her car door. "You should be at the hospital! The news said—"
"The news said what Arthur told them to say?" I walked forward, stopping just three paces away from her. "You held Leo in your arms at his fourth birthday party. You promised me you would protect the trust that gives abused children a second chance. How much did he pay you to sell out my son?"
"You don't understand!" Evelyn broke down, sobbing hysterically, sinking to her knees in the dirt. "He has my daughter, Clara! Arthur’s men grabbed my twenty-year-old girl from her dorm in London three days ago! He sent me a video of her tied to a chair! He told me if I didn't shut down the gala’s grid, he would cut her throat and mail her fingers to my doorstep!"
I froze. The blinding anger in my chest collided with the unbearable agony of a mother’s terror. I knew that exact terror all too well. It was the same despair I had endured when I stood in that horrific living room two years ago, watching my own flesh and blood crawling on bruised knees.
Arthur was still playing the same sadistic game, using innocent children as bargaining chips.
"Where is she, Evelyn?" I knelt down in the mud, gripping her trembling shoulders. "Where is he keeping your daughter?"
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"A-an offshore holding cell," she wept, looking up into my eyes. "And Brooke... Brooke knows the coordinates. Arthur used Brooke’s private family accounts to fund the European black-site!"
***
