Chapter 87 The Trade
Ariella was on the floor, hyperventilating.
“She was here. She was RIGHT HERE. How did they?…how did someone get past FBI agents…”
Marcus was on his radio. “Lockdown. Now. I want every agent accounted for. I want…”
His voice cut off.
Three FBI agents entered the room, Guns drawn and pointed at Marcus.
“Step away from the Frosts,” one of them said.
Marcus went very still. “What are you doing?”
“Following orders, Real orders. Not from you.”
“I’m your superior…”
“You’re compromised and under investigation for conspiracy. You’re under arrest.”
“This is insane…”
The agent shot him. Not to kill, right In the shoulder. Marcus dropped, clutching the wound, blood spreading across his shirt.
Aiden lunged but another agent grabbed him. Pressed a gun to his temple.
“Don’t,” the agent said calmly. “We have orders to bring you in alive, But alive doesn’t mean unharmed.”
Ariella couldn’t move, Couldn’t breathe, Elena was gone. Marcus was bleeding on the floor and Guns pointed at Aiden’s head.
“What do you want?” she managed.
“The encryption key, For the dead man’s switch. Give it to us and you get your daughter back.”
“How do I know you even have her?”
The agent pulled out a phone and showed her a video.
Elena. In a car seat, crying, with a hand-gloved, anonymous holding a bottle to her mouth.
Time stamp: four minutes ago.
“She’s safe,” the agent said. “For now. But if those files go public, she stops being safe. Simple equation.”
“We don’t have…” Aiden started.
The agent pressed the gun harder against his temple. “Don’t lie. We’ve been monitoring your communications, We know you set up automated releases, We know there’s a kill switch, We want the encryption key Now.”
Ariella’s mind began to race, the encryption key was in her head. A sixty-four-character password she’d generated randoml, No one else knew it.
If she gave it up, they had nothing. No leverage, No protection.
If she didn’t, Elena died.
“I need proof she’s alive,” Ariella said. “Not a video from four minutes ago. Real-time proof.”
The agent considered and Made a call. “Bring the package to the window.”
Thirty seconds later, a black SUV pulled up outside, Rear window rolled down.
Elena was in the car seat,very much alive and crying her lungs out.
“Satisfied?” the agent asked.
“If I give you the key, what happens to us?”
“You go into protective custody. Real protective custody. Not witness protection, You’ll be safe. Your daughter will be safe. You just need to…”
“Lie,” Aiden finished. “Recant everything, Say the files were fabricated, Blame Victoria and Protect the network.”
The agent smiled. “See? You’re smarter than you look.”
“And if we refuse?”
“Then we shoot you both, Blame Marcus for a murder-suicide. Take the baby into state custody. And your mother…Claire, is it?…has a terrible car accident tomorrow morning.” The smile widened. “Everybody loses, Or everybody wins. Your choice.”
Marcus was still conscious, bleeding, trying to speak. “Don’t…don’t give them…”
The agent kicked him in the shoulder. Marcus screamed.
“The key,” the agent repeated. “Ten seconds. Or I shoot your husband in the kneecap.”
Ariella looked at Aiden, Saw the calculation in his eyes. The same calculation she was making.
They could give up the key, save Elena and Live as prisoners, knowing the network would eventually kill them when they were no longer useful.
Or they could refuse and Watch Elena disappear, Watch Aiden get shot and Hope that someone, somewhere, got the truth out before they were all erased.
“Five seconds.”
Ariella made a decision.
“The key is…” she started. Glass shattered, The window exploded inward. The agent holding Aiden dropped, blood spraying from his neck, The other two dove for cover.
More gunfire From outside and the hallway.
“DOWN!” someone shouted.
Ariella hit the floor instantly, and Covered her head. The room filled with smoke, noise and chaos.
When the gunfire stopped, she looked up and found Four bodies, All the corrupt FBI agents. All dead.
Standing in the doorway was Jessica Reeves Holding a rifle like she’d been doing it her whole life.
“You’re late,” she said to someone behind her.
A man stepped into view. Late sixties, Military bearing with a Familiar face.
Former General Raymond Holt. Retired three years ago after a scandal about refusing unlawful orders.
“Mrs. Frost,” he said calmly. “Mr. Frost. I believe we need to talk.”