Chapter 7 - The Bait
Marcus was bound to a steel chair in the basement, a bruised, bloody mess. When he finally regained consciousness, he found himself staring down the barrel of my gun.
"Sterling is desperate," I said, dragging a chair over and sitting inches from his face. "He lost his company. He lost his mole. Which means he’s going to do something stupid. You are going to help him do it."
"Go to hell," Marcus spat.
I leaned forward. "Your offshore accounts are frozen. The feds have the wire transfers linking you to the hospital hit squad. You are looking at consecutive life sentences for attempted kidnapping and treason. But, if you do exactly what I tell you, I will leave enough money in an untraceable account for your daughter's medical treatments."
Marcus froze. He thought I didn't know about his daughter's condition. He thought his secrets were safe.
"What do you want?" he whispered, thoroughly broken.
"You're going to call Sterling. You're going to tell him the extraction was a success. Tell him you have me subdued, and you have Elena and the twins. Tell him to meet you at Pier 44 at midnight to complete the handover."
"He won't come alone," Marcus warned. "He still has a few loyal Russian contractors. They’ll kill you."
"Let them try," I smiled.
May you like
Marcus made the call. His voice was shaky, but he delivered the script perfectly. Sterling, blinded by his own desperation to regain leverage and save his collapsing empire, took the bait whole.
I spent the rest of the day fortifying the safehouse with my newly vetted, independent security contractors. I kissed Elena softly, promising her I would return, and walked out into the freezing Chicago night to end the war once and for all.
