Chapter 13 - THE SAFE HOUSE IN THE WOODS
Thirty miles west of the range, nestled deep within a thick stand of pine trees at the end of an unpaved service road, stood an unmarked single-story brick compound surrounded by a ten-foot chain-link fence topped with razor wire.
The black Suburban pulled through the automated gate, which closed with a heavy mechanical latch behind them.
Inside the compound’s main living area, Eleanor Brooks sat at a stainless-steel kitchen island, holding a steaming mug of tea with both hands. She wore a simple gray wool sweater, but her face was lined with deep exhaustion and anxiety. Sitting on a perimeter guard stool near the fortified front window was a heavily armed tactical operator in clean, unbadged dark uniform gear.
The heavy front door chimed as the electronic lock disengaged. Alexander stepped inside first, scanning the room in a single sweep before stepping aside for Maya.
"Mom," Maya called out softly.
Eleanor dropped her mug onto the counter, the tea sloshing over the brim, and rushed across the room. She wrapped her arms around her daughter, pulling her close, her hands tenderly touching Maya's back as if verifying she was unbroken.
"You shouldn't have gone out to that range," Eleanor whispered, tears sparkling in her eyes as she pulled back to look at Maya's face. "Your father told me you needed to check your equipment, but this is insane, Maya. Look at you. You look like you're preparing for a war."
"It is a war, Eleanor," Alexander said, shutting the heavy steel door and locking the triple deadbolts. "It started ten years ago when I dismantled the Robles cartel's banking arm, and it didn't end when Javier put a diamond ring on our daughter's finger."
"We can go to the federal prosecutors!" Eleanor demanded, turning on her ex-husband with fierce maternal anger. "We can put them in protection! You still have contacts in the Department of Justice!"
"The Department of Justice takes eighteen months to build a RICO indictment, Eleanor," Alexander replied, his voice entirely flat and devoid of emotion. "Carmen Robles has three teams of armed contractors operating in this city right now. If we go through legal channels, they will burn every home we own and tied-up every asset we possess until we give them what they want. In eighteen months, we would be dead or broke."
Maya walked over to the wooden dining table, unzipping her rifle case and laying the black frame of her precision marksman rifle across the table surface. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, steel USB key wrapped in a tamper-evident security seal.
"Is this it?" Maya asked, holding the drive up toward the light.
May you like
Alexander walked over, staring at the small piece of metal. "That is the primary decryption key for the 2014 Bogota offshore accounts. Three hundred million dollars in frozen assets. It’s the only reason Carmen Robles kept Javier on a leash to pursue you."
"Then we don't run," Maya said calmly, her brown eyes locking onto her father's gray ones. "We use it as bait."
