Chapter 3 - The Ghost in the Wire
The bunker beneath the mansion was cold, smelling of stale air and scorched electrical insulation. Sarah sat on a metal bench, rocking Mia to sleep while Val stood before the wall of flickering surveillance monitors. Half the screens showed static; Declan had used an industrial thermite charge to fry the primary feeds before vanishing.
“He wiped the logs from the past forty-eight hours,” Silas reported, wiping soot from his brow as he typed furiously into a backup terminal. “He targeted the gate controls, but left the secondary garage power on. Why would he leave an escape route open unless he wanted us to follow?”
Val stared at a remaining perimeter camera facing the estate’s private chapel near the tree line. “Because Declan doesn't run from fights. He lures.”
Sarah looked up, her blue eyes sharp despite her exhaustion. “Declan didn't shoot Mia. The angle from the south tower was too low for a clean trajectory on the kitchen counter. Someone else fired from ground level, and Declan masked their exit by triggering the alarms.”
Val turned to her, his brow furrowing. “You know ballistics?”
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“I know what I saw when I pulled that slug from her leg,” Sarah countered evenly. “The rifling marks were left-twist. Declan carries an imported German sidearm with a right-hand twist. Your traitor isn't just one man, Val. It’s an entire faction.”
Before Val could reply, the intercom speaker in the ceiling buzzed with a burst of static, followed by a dry, raspy laugh that made the blood in Val's veins freeze.
