Chapter 10 - The Bait and the Trap
The rain in Seattle was relentless, driving down in sheets that turned the night sky into a bruised purple canvas. An abandoned maritime warehouse on the edge of the Puget Sound shipping yards stood dark and silent, save for the rhythmic crashing of the waves against the rotting wooden pylons.
A sleek, armored Mercedes SUV pulled into the warehouse through a rusted rolling door. The headlights cut through the gloom, illuminating stacks of shipping containers.
The driver's door opened, and Desmond Hayes stepped out.
He looked older in person than in the photographs, but he carried himself with a terrifying, coiled energy. He wore a heavy wool trench coat and clutched a reinforced steel briefcase. He walked briskly toward a specific blue shipping container in the back corner of the warehouse.
Desmond punched a code into the heavy electronic padlock. It clicked open. He pulled the massive steel doors apart. Inside, the container was outfitted like a high-end vault, stacked with gold bullion and stacks of bearer bonds. His failsafe.
"It's a beautiful collection, Desmond."
Desmond spun around, his hand diving inside his trench coat for a weapon.
Julian stepped out from the shadows of a nearby forklift. He was unarmed, his hands resting casually in the pockets of his dark jacket.
"Julian," Desmond breathed, his eyes narrowing. He slowly pulled a suppressed Heckler & Koch pistol from his coat, aiming it squarely at Julian's chest. "I have to admit, you have your father's intellect. But you share his fatal flaw. You're too arrogant. You came here alone."
"I'm not arrogant," Julian said, his voice carrying clearly over the sound of the rain. "I'm just thorough."
"You ruined five years of my planning," Desmond snarled, stepping closer, his finger tightening on the trigger. "You drained my accounts. You put my pawn in a cage. But it doesn't matter. I have enough in this container to vanish to South America and live out my days like an emperor. And you? You're going to join your father at the bottom of the Sound."
"You know, Victoria told me you faked your death right here," Julian said casually, nodding toward the water outside the warehouse. "Ten years ago. A boating accident. Very theatrical."
"It worked," Desmond smiled coldly.
"It did," Julian agreed. "Which is why I figured you’d appreciate the irony."
Julian pulled his right hand from his pocket. He was holding a small, high-powered tactical flashlight. He clicked it on, flashing the blinding strobe light directly into Desmond's eyes.
Desmond cried out, stumbling backward and firing wildly. The suppressed bullet shattered the windshield of a nearby forklift.
Before Desmond could recover his vision, the entire warehouse lit up like a football stadium. Massive, high-intensity halogen floodlights snapped on from the rafters.
"FBI! DROP THE WEAPON! DROP IT NOW!"
Desmond froze. His vision cleared just enough to see that the shadows around him weren't empty.
Over thirty heavily armed federal agents were positioned on the catwalks, behind the shipping containers, and blocking the exit. Red laser sights crisscrossed Desmond’s chest and forehead, painting him like a target.
Agent Vance stepped out from behind a steel pillar, an assault rifle tucked firmly into his shoulder. "Desmond Hayes. You have exactly three seconds to put that gun on the ground, or we will turn you into Swiss cheese. One... Two..."
Desmond looked at Julian. The absolute defeat in the older man's eyes was the most satisfying thing Julian had ever witnessed. Desmond slowly lowered the pistol, letting it clatter onto the wet concrete. He dropped to his knees, placing his hands behind his head.
Julian walked forward, stopping just inches from the man who had orchestrated a decade of misery for his family.
"My father built his company on integrity," Julian said quietly, ensuring only Desmond could hear him over the shouting agents. "You tried to steal it with lies. Now you have nothing. No money. No legacy. And you're going to spend the rest of your life in a concrete box, entirely forgotten."
Agents swarmed Desmond, slamming him to the ground and ratcheting heavy steel cuffs onto his wrists.
Julian turned his back on Desmond and walked out of the warehouse, stepping into the cool, cleansing Seattle rain. He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed a number.
It rang twice before a soft voice answered.
May you like
"Julian?" Maya asked, hope threading through her tone.
Julian smiled, taking a deep breath of the ocean air. "It's done, Maya. Tell my mother she doesn't have to be afraid of ghosts anymore. We're finally safe."
