Don’t bring your phones. They’re compromised. The line went dead.
Ethan exchanged a glance with Jennifer. He sounds paranoid. Guy, he has reason to be, she replied.
As the day faded, they reached the foothills of the Catskills. The cabin was hidden in the woods, surrounded by pines and the hum of cicadas. A single light burned inside.
Klein answered the door in a flannel shirt and jeans, his gray beard trimmed short, his eyes sharp and weary. You made it, he said. Get inside before someone sees you.
They entered cautiously. The place smelled of coffee and wood smoke. Files and old case folders were stacked on the dining table.
Klein gestured for them to sit. Let me see what you’ve got, he said. Jennifer handed him her flash drive.
Klein plugged it into an old laptop, scrolling through the files with practiced speed. Good lord, he muttered. This is worse than I thought.
Offshore accounts, shell companies, even fake charities. He’s been bleeding investors dry for years. Ethan leaned forward.
Can we take him down? Klein’s yaw tightened. Yes, but it won’t be easy. You’re dealing with a man who’s bribed judges, silenced witnesses, and owns half the politicians in this state.
We’ll need to leak parts of this first carefully to turn public pressure against him. Jennifer nodded. I can write the story, but Greg will come for us before it runs.
Klein looked at Ethan. Then you’d better be ready for that. As night fell, Anna explored the cabin with Loretta.
Giggling softly as she found an old rocking chair by the fireplace, Ethan stood by the window, watching the tree line sway in the wind. He won’t stop, he said quietly. Greg’s not just protecting his empire.
He’s protecting his ego. Klein joined him. Then hit him where it hurts.
Take his pride. Not just his money. Ethan turned to him.
How? Expose the hypocrisy. The man who built his fortune preaching integrity while stealing from everyone who trusted him. You show the world who he really is, Jennifer added.
We can do that. But we’ll need a digital trail, something that connects the fraud directly to him, not just through Janelle’s files. Ethan frowned.
He used my credentials for years. If there’s one copy of those digital signatures left on a government archive, we can prove it was forged. Klein nodded slowly.
Then that’s where we go next, Washington. The SEC servers keep transactional archives no one can delete. But it’s dangerous.
You’ll need to sneak in and copy the data yourself. Uh, Loretta overheard from the table. You mean break into a government building? Klein smirked.
Not break in, ma’am. Borrow access. Ethan sighed.
So it’s a heist now? Jennifer grinned faintly. A righteous one. Anna tugged on Ethan’s sleeve.
Does this mean you’re gonna be a spy? Ethan chuckled. Something like that. Loretta crossed her arms.
Well, if y’all are gonna do something that crazy, you’d better not do it on an empty stomach. She started rummaging through Klein’s cabinets. As she cooked, the room filled with the smell of frying bacon and cornbread.
It felt strangely peaceful, a stolen moment of normal life before the next storm. When Anna was finally asleep in the rocking chair, Ethan stood by the fire, watching the flames dance. Jennifer joined him quietly.
You realize this is suicide, right? She said softly. Ethan smiled, eyes distaunt. It’s redemption.
She looked at him for a long moment, then said, Janelle would be proud. Outside, the wind howled through the trees, carrying with it the faint echo of a coming reckoning. Miles away, in a penthouse overlooking Manhattan, Greg Sanders poured another drink.
Pierce stood before him, arm in a sling from their last encounter. You failed, Greg said coldly. Pierce swallowed.
He threw it in the river. The drive’s gone, Greg smirked. You really think Walker would destroy the only proof he had? No, he’s too careful.
He has copies. Find them. He turned to the window, watching lightning flash far to the north toward the mountains.
Find them, he repeated softly. And, when you do, bring me the girl. The next morning dawned cold and pale over the Catskills.
Mist hung low between the trees, blurring the outline of the cabin. Inside, Ethan stood at the kitchen sink, staring at his reflection in the window. His face looked older, harder, more alive than it had in months.
He’d lost everything. Yet somehow gained a reason to fight again. Behind him, Loretta was humming softly while packing sandwiches into a paper bag.
You sure you don’t want to eat first? She asked. Ethan shook his head. Can’t.
My stomach’s tied in knots. Jennifer entered the room. Her hair pulled back.
A determined look in her eyes. Klein’s prepping the gear, she said. We’ll need to leave in ten minutes.
Um… Loretta raised an eyebrow. Gear, Lord have mercy. You sound like you’re going to war.
Jennifer managed a thin smile. In a way, we are. Anna came padding into the room, still in her pajamas, clutching her stuffed rabbit.
Mr. E. Where are you going? Ethan crouched down, forcing a smile. Just a little trip, sweetheart. Something important.
She frowned. You always say that when you mean dangerous. Loretta sighed.
Child’s too sharp for her own good. Um… Ethan brushed a curl from Anna’s forehead. You’re going to stay here with Miss Loretta, and help her make sure Pastor Klein doesn’t burn his own coffee again, okay? Anna pouted but nodded.
Okay. But you promise you’ll come back? He hesitated. I promise I’ll try my best.
She held up her pinky. Mama said promises only count when you mean them. Ethan linked his pinky with hers.
Then I mean it. Klein appeared at the door, holding two backpacks. We need to move.
The longer we wait, the easier it’ll be for them to find us. Ethan kissed the top of Anna’s head. Be good, kid.
Bring back the truth, she whispered. He blinked, surprised. Where did you hear that? Mama used to say it, Anna replied, her small voice steady.
Truth is like light, it don’t hide forever. Ethan’s throat tightened. She was right.
They left the cabin and headed toward a beat-up truck parked at the edge of the clearing. The drive south was quiet. The highway stretched long and empty.
And the hum of the tires filled the silence between them. Jennifer finally spoke. You know this could land us in prison, Ethan nodded.
If we’re lucky, Klein kept his eyes on the road. There’s an old contact at the SEC archives, a night shift clerk named Ramos. He owes me a favor from a case years ago.
If we time it right, we can access the servers before anyone knows we were there, Jennifer frowned. And if Ramos says no, Klein smirked, then we remind him that doing the right thing feels better than running scared. They reached Washington DC just after dusk.
The city glittered with bureaucratic calm, hiding the rot beneath. The SEC building loomed ahead, tall, sterile, and surrounded by cameras. Klein parked in an alley two blocks away.
We’ll go in through the parking garage, he said, less foot traffic. Ethan, you and I handle access. Jennifer, you keep watch and monitor comms.
Got it, she said, checking her phone. I’ll flag any heat signatures from nearby patrols. Inside the building, the air was heavy with the smell of disinfectant and faint ozone.
Fluorescent lights flickered overhead. Klein swiped a borrowed badge, and the door clicked open. Still works, he muttered.
Guess old favors die hard. They moved quickly down the hallway. The server room was cold, lined with humming towers of machines.
Ethan sat at a terminal, while Klein plugged in a portable drive. Okay, Klein said, find anything with Sanders’ signature authorization code, GS1978. Ethan’s fingers flew across the keyboard.
Data scrolled past numbers, emails, digital stamps. Got it, he said. Here are three years of forged authorizations.
He used my login, my encryption key. Klein whistled low. This is the smoking gun.
Copy everything, Ethan said. They waited as files transferred gigabytes of evidence that could bury Greg Sanders for good. The minutes crawled by.
Ethan’s nerves were electric. Then the lights flickered. Once.
Twice. Jennifer’s voice came through the earpiece. Urgent.
Ethan, you’ve got company. Two vehicles just pulled into the garage, no plates, armed. Klein cursed under his breath.
He found us. Ethan yanked the drive free. We’ve got what we need.
Back exit, now. They sprinted down the corridor, alarms beginning to blare. Jennifer met them at the stairwell, her eyes wide.
They’re cutting off the east wing. We’ve got about thirty seconds before they’re here. Rooftop, Klein said.
Emergency exit leads to an adjacent building. They ran, boots slapping the tile. Gunfire echoed somewhere below.
Ethan’s lungs burned. But he didn’t stop. When they burst through the rooftop door, rain was falling again, a steady drizzle under the orange city lights.
Jennifer scanned the edge. Their maintenance bridge between buildings. They dashed across, wind whipping their faces.
Halfway over, a shout rang out behind them. Pierce. He stepped into the doorway, gun raised.
Ethan turned, adrenaline surging. Go! He shouted to Jennifer and Klein. I’ll hold him off.
Jennifer froze. Ethan. Go, he barked.
Pierce fired. The bullet tore past Ethan’s shoulder, grazing flesh. He ducked behind a vent and shouted.
You really don’t give up, do you? Pierce’s voice carried across the rain. Neither do you. But you’re out of luck, Walker.
My boss wants that drive and the girl. Ethan’s blood ran cold. You leave her out of this, Pierce smirked, stepping closer.
Too late for that. We already know where she is. Ethan didn’t think he launched himself forward, slamming into Pierce with all his strength.
The gun skidded across the roof. They grappled, slipping in the rain. Below, Jennifer and Klein reached the far building.
Jennifer turned back just as Ethan threw a punch that sent Pierce reeling. But then Pierce caught him with an elbow, knocking him to the ground. Ethan! Jennifer screamed.
Pierce grabbed his gun again, aiming at point blank. Say goodbye, hero. Before he could pull the trigger, Ethan swung a metal rod, knocking the weapon from his hand.
The gun slid across the slick roof and straight off the edge. Pierce lunged, but his foot slipped. For a second, he hung on the railing, fingers clutching wet metal.
Ethan stared down at him, rain running into his eyes. Help me, Pierce gasped. Ethan hesitated.
Every instinct screamed to let go. To end it here. But Anna’s voice echoed in his mind.
Mama said even when people do bad things, we don’t have to become bad too. He reached down and grabbed Pierce’s wrist, pulling him up with a groan. You tell your boss, Ethan said between breaths…
