Chapter 34 - The Case on the Table
Special Agent Miller stared at the document on the table, her jaw set so tight the muscles in her neck stood out like cords. "This is obstruction, Hayes. Evelyn Vance is responsible for the collapse of Caldwell Global. She's tied to three foreign accounts in Cyprus and the death of two private security contractors in New Hampshire."
"And she is also the sole living witness to Harold Caldwell’s black-budget defense contracts with the Ukrainian border ministry," Hayes shot back, not even looking at her. "Which makes her a national security asset, Agent Miller. Step out of the room. Now."
The two federal marshals stepped forward, their hands resting deliberately on their holstered Glocks.
Miller held Hayes’s gaze for three agonizing seconds. Then, without a word, she snatched her manila folder from the table, turned on her heel, and strode out into the corridor. The heavy door clicked shut behind her, sealing Nathan alone with Director Hayes.
Hayes did not sit down. He walked slowly around the stainless-steel table, his polished oxfords clicking on the sealed concrete. He unlocked Nathan’s handcuffs with a small brass key, tossing the restraints onto the metal with a clatter.
"Rub your wrists, Nathan," Hayes said softly. "You're going to need your hands."
Nathan rubbed the deep red indentations on his skin, his eyes locked onto Hayes. "Who are you?"
"My name is Julian Hayes. For the last twenty years, I was your father’s primary liaison within the Department of Justice," Hayes said calmly. He reached down, picked up the black titanium briefcase Nathan had pulled from the frozen lake, and placed it squarely in front of Nathan. "Open it."
Nathan stared at the case. "The lock requires Arthur's biometrics. Arthur is at the bottom of a frozen lake."
Hayes smiled a thin, predatory smile. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, transparent vacuum-sealed plastic bag. Inside was a severed thumb, pale gray and preserved in medical saline.
"Arthur was retrieved from the ice twenty minutes after you left the shoreline, Nathan," Hayes said matter-of-factly, dropping the grisly trophy onto the table. "Federal divers are remarkably efficient when billions of dollars in sovereign debt are at stake."
Nathan felt a cold sweat break out across his hairline. He picked up the bag with trembling fingers, pressing the dead thumb against the case’s optical scanner while typing in the six-digit master code Harold had etched onto the back of the family pocket watch: *0-9-1-4-8-8*.
A high-pitched chirp chimed from the case’s internal lock. The pneumatic seals hissed, releasing a puff of nitrogen gas, and the dual titanium latches popped open.
Inside, there were no stacks of bearer bonds. There were no hard drives.
Nestled into custom-cut black foam were three small, glass vials containing an amber-colored liquid, labeled with handwritten serial numbers: *C-1, C-2, C-3*. Beside them lay a sealed manila envelope stamped with the crest of the Swiss Federal Banking Commission, and a small, antique silver locket that Nathan recognized instantly.
It was the locket his mother had worn until the day she died.
"Do you know what you are looking at, Nathan?" Hayes asked, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"Ledgers," Nathan said numbly. "Arthur said this case contained the financial proof that Vanessa orchestrated the fraud."
"Arthur was an idiot," Hayes said dismissively. "Arthur thought money was power. Your father knew better. Harold knew that money is paper, easily seized, easily burned. Real power is continuity."
Hayes pointed a long finger at the glass vials.
"Those are cryogenic cellular samples. Synthetic telomerase derivatives engineered by Harold’s private biotech firm in Basel. Designed to reverse genetic deterioration in Huntington’s chorea. The disease that killed your mother. The disease that is currently eating its way through your prefrontal cortex, Nathan."
Nathan froze. "What did you say?"
"You didn't know?" Hayes tilted his head, feigning sympathy. "Why do you think Harold kept you out of the boardrooms? Why do you think he treated you like porcelain? You have Huntington’s, Nathan. Just like your mother. You have maybe four years before the tremors begin. Seven before you can no longer recognize your own face in a mirror."
Hayes leaned down until his eyes were level with Nathan’s.
"Evelyn Vance didn't marry you to steal Caldwell Global, Nathan. Evelyn Vance married you because she knew you were dying. She needed a husband who would pass away quietly within a decade, leaving the entire sixty percent voting trust to her and Eli without a single legal challenge."
Nathan’s hand slammed down onto the open case, his knuckles turning chalk-white. "Where is she?"
May you like
"In holding block Charlie," Hayes replied softly. "Waiting for her transport to a black site in Virginia. But before she leaves, she asked to see you. She has a final offer, Nathan. And given that your life has officially ended as of tonight, I suggest you hear what she has to say."
***
