Leo's Alliance

I drove until the suburbs gave way to warehouses and industrial parks, Corinne’s SUV a sleek anomaly in a landscape of rust and concrete. I wasn't just hiding; I was hunting.

I needed a place where digital footprints went to die.

I pulled into a self-storage facility near the old railyard. My father had kept a unit here, filled with old tax records and fishing gear. I hadn't opened it in five years, but the key was still on my ring.

I rolled up the metal door. The air smelled of dust and forgotten memories.

I cleared a space on a stack of plastic totes. I set up the laptop. I tethered it to the burner phone again.

I had the flight tracking. I had the destination.

But I needed an ally on the inside.

I looked at the burner phone Leo had sent me. *Osprey Charters.*

I searched the pilot's name listed on the flight manifest I had pulled from the FAA database before Arthur locked me out.

*Captain Marcus Cole.*

Ex-military. Dishonorable discharge. Smuggling.

He wasn't a corporate pilot. He was a mercenary.

And mercenaries could be bought.

I found a number for Osprey's dispatch in San Juan. I called it.

"Osprey Charters, San Juan desk."

"This is Elena Hawthorne," I said, my voice steady. "I need to speak to Captain Cole. Immediately."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, Captain Cole is in flight. He's landing in forty minutes."

"When he lands," I said. "Tell him he has a better offer."

"Excuse me?"

"Tell him the cargo he's carrying is hot. Tell him the FBI is tracking his tail number. And tell him if he wants to stay out of federal prison, he needs to answer this number."

I hung up.

It was a bluff. But it was a loud one.

Now I waited.

Ten minutes passed. Twenty.

My phone rang.

"Who is this?" A man's voice. Rough. Angry.

"Someone who knows what you're carrying," I said.

"I'm carrying a businessman and his grandkids," Cole said. "Everything is legal."

"Arthur Hawthorne is a wanted man," I said. "And those kids are kidnapping victims. You land in Georgetown, you're an accessory. You land in St. Jude's, you're a trafficker."

Silence on the line. The hum of jet engines in the background.

"What do you want?" Cole asked.

"I want my children," I said. "And I want Arthur."

"He's paying me fifty grand for this run."

"I'll pay you double," I said. "And I'll wipe your record with the FAA."

"You can't do that."

"I have the ledger," I said. "I have the names of the people who *can* do that. Or I can release the names of the people who will bury you."

Another silence. Longer this time.

"We're diverting to San Juan for fuel," Cole said. "Storm front."

"I know," I said. "I'll be there."

"You better be," he said. "Because if he gets wind of this, he'll kill us all."

The line went dead.

I slumped against the corrugated metal wall of the storage unit. I had bought an ally. Now I just had to get to him.

I looked at the hard drive I had pulled from the floorboard. The raw data.

I plugged it into the laptop. I started the decryption software Julian had installed years ago "just in case."

The progress bar inched forward.

*5%... 10%...*

My phone buzzed again.

Not Cole. Not Arthur.

It was a text from Leo.

*Mom. We landed. It's raining.*

*Grandpa is in the terminal. He's on the phone. He's yelling.*

*He's talking about Dad.*

My heart skipped a beat.

*What about Dad?* I texted back.

Three dots appeared. Then vanished. Then appeared again.

*He said Dad didn't make it.*

The phone slipped from my hand. It hit the concrete floor.

*Didn't make it.*

Julian.

I closed my eyes. I saw him in the hallway, bleeding. I saw him standing between me and the monster.

*He knew she was alive,* I thought. *And he was suffering.*

He had suffered for ten years. Carrying the weight of his father's sin.

And now he was gone.

I picked up the phone. I wiped the screen.

*Stay with Sophie,* I typed. *I'm coming.*

I didn't have time to grieve. I didn't have time to break.

I stood up.

I had a plane to catch.

And a husband to avenge.