The Choice

Corinne drove like she was fleeing a fire. She cut across lanes, ran red lights, her knuckles white on the leather steering wheel of the Mercedes SUV.

"Arthur has a pilot on retainer," she said, her voice tight. "If they take off, they'll be in international airspace in twenty minutes. Once they land on St. Jude's, it's over. He owns the island."

"Why are you helping me?" I asked, gripping the door handle.

"Because I have a daughter," Corinne said. "She's three years old. Arthur doesn't know about her."

I stared at her. The mistress. The usurper. The mother.

"If he finds out," she whispered, "he'll take her. He'll use her against me. Just like he used Leo and Sophie against you."

She slammed on the brakes, swerving onto the access road for Teterboro Airport.

"We can't get past the gate," she said. "Not without clearance."

"Ram it," I said.

She looked at me. "This is a hundred-thousand-dollar car."

"My children are on that plane," I said.

Corinne didn't hesitate. She floored it.

The SUV hit the chain-link gate at sixty miles per hour. Metal shrieked. Glass shattered. The airbag didn't deploy—she must have disabled it. We bounced onto the tarmac, tires spinning on the wet pavement.

"There!" I shouted.

A private jet, sleek and silver, was taxiing toward the runway. The engines were already whining, building thrust.

"Cut him off!"

Corinne spun the wheel. We raced parallel to the plane, closing the distance.

I saw faces in the windows. Small, terrified faces.

Leo. Sophie.

And Arthur. He was looking out, his face a mask of fury.

He saw us. He must have shouted to the pilot, because the plane surged forward.

"He's taking off!" Corinne screamed.

"Get in front of him!"

"I can't! He's too fast!"

We were losing ground. The nose of the plane lifted. The wheels left the tarmac.

He was gone.

I watched the plane climb into the gray sky, banking south.

"No," I whispered. "No, no, no."

Corinne stopped the car. She put her head on the steering wheel and sobbed.

I didn't cry. I felt cold. Hollow.

My phone buzzed.

It was Arthur.

"You should have signed," he said. The reception was clear, even at ten thousand feet. "Now you'll never see them again."

"Bring them back, Arthur."

"No," he said. "They're my leverage. As long as I have them, you don't talk. You don't release the ledger. You don't go to the FBI."

"I already went to the FBI," I lied.

"You didn't," he said. "I have people watching the building. You never went inside."

He laughed. A dry, humorless sound.

"You have a choice, Elena. One hour. Meet me at the quarry. Bring the ledger. Alone."

"You're on a plane," I said.

"I have a phone," he said. "And I have men. Meet them at the quarry. Hand over the book. And I'll tell the pilot to turn around."

"And if I don't?"

"Then I land in St. Jude's," he said. "And Leo and Sophie become permanent residents of the orphanage I fund. It's a very... strict institution."

The line went dead.

I looked at the empty sky.

"He wants the ledger," I said.

"Give it to him," Corinne said, wiping her eyes. "It's just a book."

"It's not just a book," I said. "It's the only thing keeping him from killing us all. If I give it to him, he has no reason to let the kids go."

"So what do you do?"

"I need time," I said. "I need to stall him."

My phone buzzed again. A text from Arthur.

*One hour. Tick tock.*

I looked at the message. Then I looked at the flight plan Corinne had given me.

*Destination: Georgetown.*

"He's not going to St. Jude's," I said. "He's going to the Caymans."

"Why?" Corinne asked.

"Because he needs the money," I said. "He can't access the accounts remotely. I changed the passwords. He has to go to the bank in person."

I looked at her.

"Can you fly a plane?"

"No," she said. "But I know someone who can."

"Who?"

"Julian," she said.

I stared at her. "Julian?"

"He got his license three years ago," she said. "Arthur made him. Said it was a 'necessary skill for a CEO.'"

I grabbed my phone. I dialed Julian.

He picked up on the first ring.

"Elena?"

"Meet me at Teterboro," I said. "Now."

"Why?"

"Because we're going to catch a plane."

"Elena," he said, his voice breaking. "I can't. I'm... I'm at the police station. I turned myself in."

My heart sank.

"You what?"

"I confessed," he said. "To everything. The fraud. The embezzlement. The cover-up."

"Julian, no. You didn't do it."

"It doesn't matter," he said. "I need to distract them. I need to buy you time."

"Time for what?"

"To run," he said. "Get out of the country, El. Go to non-extradition. Save yourself."

"I'm not leaving the kids."

"You have to," he said. "Arthur won't hurt them. They're his blood. But he will kill you."

"I'm not leaving them," I said again.

"Then you're dead," Julian whispered. "Goodbye, Elena."

He hung up.

I looked at Corinne.

"He's gone," I said. "Julian is gone."

"So what do we do?" she asked.

I looked at the flight plan. I looked at the ledger in my bag.

"We have one hour," I said. "To get to the quarry. And to come up with a plan to take down a monster without getting eaten."

I climbed out of the SUV. I walked to the edge of the runway.

I needed a weapon. Not a gun. Not a tire iron.

I needed something Arthur understood.

I needed leverage.

I opened the ledger. I flipped to the page with the Cayman accounts.

There was a number at the bottom. A contact.

*Mr. Silas. Fixer.*

I dialed the number.

A voice answered. Heavy accent. Russian?

"Yes?"

"Mr. Silas," I said. "My name is Elena Hawthorne. I have the book."

Silence.

"I'm listening," he said.

"Arthur Hawthorne is flying to the Caymans," I said. "He's coming to empty the accounts. All of them."

"And?"

"And I want you to stop him," I said.

"Why would I do that?" Silas asked. "Arthur pays me very well."

"Not anymore," I said. "I locked the accounts. He can't pay you. He can't pay anyone."

I took a breath.

"But I can."

"You?" Silas laughed. "You are the wife. You have nothing."

"I have the ledger," I said. "I have the names of every client you've ever washed money for. Every politician. Every cartel boss."

The laughter stopped.

"Are you threatening me, Mrs. Hawthorne?"

"I'm offering you a job," I said. "Intercept Arthur in Georgetown. Hold him. Until I get there."

"And the price?"

"The ledger," I said. "You get the book. You get to keep your secrets. And you get half of whatever is in those accounts."

Silence. Long, heavy silence.

"He lands in three hours," Silas said. "Be there."

He hung up.

I looked at Corinne.

"We need a plane," I said.

"I don't have a plane," she said.

"No," I said. "But you have a black card. And we're at an airport."

I started walking toward the charter terminal.

"We're going to the Caribbean," I said. "And we're going to get my kids back."