Chapter 5 - The Inside Man
Julian reacted with lightning-fast instincts, instantly throwing his body directly in front of his brother's wheelchair to act as a human shield against the approaching guards.
"If you pull a weapon on live television in front of these cameras, you will absolutely spend the rest of your miserable lives rotting in a federal penitentiary," Julian roared, his voice echoing with absolute, terrifying authority.
The two imposing security guards froze completely mid-stride, their eyes darting nervously toward the blinking red light of the news camera that was now pointed squarely at their faces.
They were highly paid corporate mercenaries, completely willing to bend the law for Charles Cross, but they were absolutely not willing to commit armed assault on live, broadcast television.
They slowly, cautiously pulled their empty hands away from their concealed shoulder holsters, taking a distinct step backward to quickly distance themselves from their falling employer.
Charles Cross looked desperately at his loyal guards, then at the camera, and finally at the absolute, murderous determination burning in Julian’s eyes.
The legendary billionaire completely realized in that horrifying, freezing moment that he had completely and permanently lost control of the narrative, his family, and his massive empire.
Without saying another single word, Charles turned sharply on his heel and rushed aggressively toward the shelter’s main exit, his silver cane clicking frantically against the concrete floor.
"Don't let him leave the building!" a courageous shelter volunteer yelled loudly from the back of the room, stepping forward to bravely block the double doors.
But Julian immediately raised his hand high, shaking his head firmly at the angry, surging crowd of people.
"Let him run away," Julian commanded quietly, watching his father disappear into the blinding, freezing whiteout of the Seattle blizzard.
"There is absolutely nowhere on this earth he can hide from the federal indictments that are about to drop directly on his head."
The immediate aftermath of the explosive live broadcast was a scene of absolute, unmitigated chaos.
News vans from every single major network began completely surrounding the downtown shelter within minutes, their satellite dishes rapidly extending into the stormy sky.
Local police cruisers, their loud sirens wailing and red and blue lights flashing brilliantly against the snow, fought their way aggressively through the icy streets to secure the perimeter.
Julian completely knew that if they stayed in the shelter, they would be hopelessly trapped by a suffocating media circus and endless police questioning before they could secure the rest of the evidence.
He quickly grabbed the heavy handles of Matthew’s rusted wheelchair, pushing his brother urgently toward the shelter’s dark, heavily shadowed rear loading dock.
The icy wind bit violently into their faces the second they stepped outside, but the massive surge of adrenaline rushing through their veins easily kept them warm.
A sleek, heavily armored black SUV with completely tinted windows was idling quietly in the snow-filled alleyway behind the brick building.
Julian's personal executive driver, a fiercely loyal and highly trained ex-military man named Marcus, stood casually by the open rear passenger door.
"Get in the car, right now," Marcus urged strongly, keeping a watchful, highly tactical eye on the dark street corners for any signs of Charles’s remaining security forces.
Julian gently helped his entirely exhausted brother out of the chair and heavily into the luxurious, heated leather seats of the massive vehicle.
He then carefully folded the rusted, squeaking wheelchair and tossed it hastily into the spacious trunk before diving rapidly into the back seat himself.
As Marcus aggressively slammed on the gas and the SUV sped away into the blinding storm, Julian grabbed a thick, heavy wool emergency blanket and wrapped it tightly around Matthew.
"I honestly cannot comprehend how you completely survived out here in this freezing hell for four years," Julian said quietly, his heart breaking as he watched his brother shiver violently.
Matthew pulled the soft, warm blanket much tighter around his incredibly thin shoulders, staring blankly out the tinted window at the passing city lights.
"When you spend years completely locked inside a padded, windowless room completely against your will, the freezing cold out here actually feels exactly like freedom," Matthew whispered softly.
Julian’s chest tightened completely with a profound, suffocating guilt that he absolutely knew would haunt him for the rest of his natural life.
"I really should have looked much harder for you, Matthew," Julian confessed emotionally, burying his face completely in his hands.
"I never should have blindly believed the terrible lies he told me about you."
Matthew placed a cold, trembling hand onto Julian's arm, offering a comforting squeeze that spoke massive volumes about his incredible capacity for forgiveness.
"You were only twenty-two years old when the crash happened, Julian," Matthew reminded him gently.
"Dad was a complete master manipulator; he completely controlled the corporate board, he illegally paid off the media, and he completely threatened the doctors into silence."
"You couldn't have possibly known what he was truly capable of back then."
Julian completely pulled his highly encrypted, highly secure smartphone from his coat pocket, the screen already brilliantly illuminated with thousands of frantic, incoming notifications.
The explosive news of his broadcast had instantly gone entirely viral globally, and Cross Technologies' stock was already plummeting violently in the chaotic after-hours trading markets.
The entire board of directors was frantically demanding an emergency, middle-of-the-night meeting to aggressively assess the catastrophic damage to the corporate brand.
"Where exactly are we going right now?" Matthew asked curiously, watching as Marcus expertly navigated the treacherous, ice-covered highway heading completely out of the city.
"We are going immediately to a highly secure safe house that I secretly purchased three years ago entirely under a dummy corporation," Julian replied, his eyes scanning the digital alerts.
"Charles still technically controls exactly half of the private security team at the main corporate headquarters."
"We absolutely cannot trust anyone in our inner circle until we completely figure out exactly who the internal mole is."
Matthew reached down slowly and pulled his worn, canvas backpack onto his lap, patting the pocket that securely held the encrypted financial ledgers.
"The mole is absolutely the specific executive who had the exact clearance to intercept and completely delete my emails four years ago," Matthew stated analytically.
"If we can rapidly identify them, we can instantly find the exact digital footprint linking Dad's personal bank accounts to the foreign data brokers."
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Julian nodded slowly, his mind completely shifting rapidly from the emotional shock of the reunion to the ruthless, highly tactical mindset of a wartime CEO.
He was fully and completely prepared to burn his own multi-billion dollar company straight to the absolute ground if it meant finally getting complete justice for his mother and his brother.
