Chapter 8 - No Cameras
The first shot hit a metal beam above Thomas’s head.
Everyone dropped.
“Cover!”
Hale pulled Léa behind a stack of crates.
The investigators drew their sidearms.
Another shot punched through wood.
Thomas shouted, “They’re shooting over us!”
Léa heard it too.
The shots were high.
Warning shots.
The men outside wanted them trapped, not dead.
At least not yet.
A voice came through a loudspeaker.
“Colonel Hale. Leave the ledger inside and walk out.”
Hale looked at Léa.
“They know exactly what we found.”
Thomas whispered, “Sloan.”
Léa shook her head.
“Maybe.”
Hale handed the ledger to Léa.
“Hide it.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere.”
Léa opened a crate and slid it beneath a brake assembly.
The loudspeaker sounded again.
“You have thirty seconds.”
Thomas pointed toward the rear wall.
“Loading vent.”
Too small for adults.
But a forklift sat nearby.
Léa looked up.
A maintenance catwalk ran along the ceiling.
“We go high.”
They climbed.
Below them, the warehouse doors opened.
Four men entered.
No insignia.
No military weapons.
Thomas crawled across the catwalk.
One of the investigators slipped.
Metal rattled.
A flashlight snapped upward.
“There!”
They ran.
The catwalk shook.
Léa reached the far wall.
A ladder led down.
Then the rear emergency door burst open.
“Military police! Drop your weapons!”
Everything stopped.
Captain Delcourt entered with six MPs.
His forehead was bandaged.
His pistol was raised.
The civilian gunmen dropped their weapons.
Thomas climbed down slowly.
“You look surprisingly alive.”
Delcourt looked at him.
“Disappointed?”
“Still deciding.”
Hale approached.
“How did you know we were here?”
Delcourt reached into his pocket.
He showed her a tiny tracking device.
“The ledger.”
Léa stared at him.
“You put a tracker in it?”
“Two years ago.”
Thomas laughed once.
“You tracked evidence for two years?”
“I tracked Varenne.”
“Then why are your initials in the ledger?”
Delcourt’s face tightened.
“I wondered when you’d find that.”
“Sixty thousand dollars,” Thomas said.
“Offered.”
“The ledger says refused.”
“Because I refused.”
“Convenient.”
Delcourt stepped closer.
“You want the truth?”
“Yes.”
“Varenne tried to buy me after Mercer’s accident.”
Léa watched his eyes.
“For what?”
“To sign the final report.”
“And when you refused?”
“He threatened my career.”
Thomas crossed his arms.
“You stayed anyway.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Delcourt looked at Léa.
“Because Mercer told me what he saw.”
“The stolen parts.”
“Yes.”
“He saw the transfer.”
“He was on guard duty three nights before the accident.”
“And then the brakes failed.”
Delcourt nodded.
Léa felt sick.
“Why didn’t Mercer expose them?”
“He tried.”
“What happened?”
“His wife received photographs of their daughter walking to school.”
Thomas stopped moving.
Delcourt’s voice lowered.
“Mercer signed a settlement. Left the service. Disappeared.”
Hale asked, “Where is he now?”
“I don’t know.”
Léa looked at him.
“You’re lying.”
Delcourt said nothing.
“You know exactly where he is.”
He looked at the MPs around them.
Then toward the captured Kestrel men.
“Not here.”
Léa stepped closer.
“Captain.”
Delcourt’s radio suddenly crackled.
“Command to all units. Be advised, Lieutenant Colonel Varenne has left confinement.”
Everyone froze.
Hale grabbed her radio.
“How?”
The answer came immediately.
“Major Sloan presented regional transfer authority.”
Thomas stared.
“Sloan came back?”
“No,” the voice replied.
“Authorization was transmitted electronically.”
Delcourt’s face drained of color.
“What time?”
“Twenty-two thirteen.”
Delcourt looked at his watch.
Then at Léa.
“He’s not running.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Varenne never runs without destroying the person who forced him to.”
Léa’s phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
Inès.
Sitting in a chair.
Hands bound.
Under it, one message.
May you like
BRING THE LEDGER.
COME ALONE.
