Chapter 13 - The Broadcast
Marcus laughed, a harsh, dismissive bark that echoed over the water. "Do you think sentimental poetry frightens me, Eleanor? Do you think some dead brother's guilt changes the balance of power?"
"It isn't poetry, Marcus," Eleanor said, a cold, vicious smile spreading across her lips. "Julian knew you were poisoning him. He knew every single offshore shell company, every bribe to the Zurich clinic, and every murder you commissioned to build your empire."
Eleanor raised her wrist, showing her smartwatch. A tiny green blinking diode signaled an active synchronization.
"When Lily spoke those words, the microdot cipher in her pocket recognized her vocal frequency. Julian designed the encryption around his daughter's unique biological acoustic signature. The files didn't unlock for me. They unlocked for her."
Marcus’s smile vanished. His face drained of color as he looked down at the girl.
Across the pier, the mobile phones of every private contractor in Marcus’s security detail began buzzing simultaneously. In their pockets, notifications chimed. On the dashboard screens of all six black SUVs, real-time news alerts began flashing in bright red banners.
Eleanor had routed the unlocked microdot data straight to the Department of Justice, the International Criminal Court, and every major news outlet on three continents.
BREAKING: VANCE INTERNATIONAL PATRIARCH INDICTED IN CONSPIRACY, EMBEZZLEMENT, AND CONTRACT MURDER.
"What did you do?" Marcus whispered, his hand trembling as he released Lily’s coat.
"I honored Julian’s promise," Eleanor said.
Lily didn't wait. She bolted from the car, her little sneakers pounding across the wet wooden planks of the pier, sprinting toward Eleanor with everything she had.
"Shoot them!" Marcus screamed, completely losing his composure, his voice turning into an unhinged shriek. "Shoot them all now!"
Not a single contractor moved.
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The head of his security detail stepped forward, glanced down at the federal arrest warrant glowing on his smartphone screen, and calmly dropped his sidearm onto the asphalt. One by one, the other operatives unholstered their weapons and let them clatter to the ground.
Nobody died for a ruined man.
