Chapter 9 - THE CHICAGO GAMBIT AND THE PUPPETEER’S REACH
The flight to Chicago was different this time.
No private jet.
No luxury catering.
I sat in the middle seat of a commercial airliner,
surrounded by strangers,
feeling more alone than I ever had in my life.
Agent Miller was two rows back,
disguised as a businessman.
There were four other agents on the plane.
I was the bait.
The FBI couldn't just storm a high-rise on Wacker Drive without proof that Arthur was there.
They needed me to initiate contact.
They needed me to get him to open the door.
As we descended over Lake Michigan,
the city of Chicago looked like a grid of light and shadow.
The Windy City.
A place of cold winds and hard truths.
I checked into the Drake Hotel under my own name.
Within ten minutes,
the phone in my room rang.
I picked it up,
my heart hammering.
"Hello?"
"You're late,
Mark,"
the voice said.
It was Arthur.
He sounded stronger than he had in the industrial district.
More confident.
"I had some delays,"
I said,
my voice steady despite the adrenaline.
"The FBI is all over the house,
Arthur."
"Evelyn is in custody."
"Sarah is in a jumpsuit."
"Is that supposed to bother me?"
Arthur chuckled,
a dry,
hollow sound.
"Evelyn knew the risks."
"Sarah was always the weak link."
"But you...
you have the talent."
"You have the signature I need."
"I’m not signing anything,"
I said.
"Then you'll never see the offshore accounts,"
he replied.
"And more importantly,
you'll never be able to clear your name."
"I have the trail,
Mark."
"I have every email,
every wire transfer,
every phone call you ever made."
"In the eyes of the law,
you are the mastermind."
"I'm just a dead man."
"And you can't prosecute a ghost."
"Come to the penthouse on Wacker."
"One last meeting."
"If you sign the final acquisition papers,
I’ll give you the encryption key that wipes your involvement from the server."
"You can go back to being the golden boy of Greenwich."
"You can take Lily and disappear."
"And what about Sarah?"
I asked.
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
"Sarah made her choice,"
he said coldly.
"She chose her husband over her father."
"She’s no longer my concern."
I closed my eyes,
feeling the weight of his cruelty.
"I'll be there in an hour."
I hung up and looked at the mirror.
I didn't recognize the man staring back at me.
He looked tired.
He looked old.
But he also looked dangerous.
I tapped on the wall,
the signal for Miller in the next room.
He entered through the connecting door,
checking his earpiece.
"We tracked the call,"
he said.
"It came from the Wacker building."
"We're ready."
"Are you?"
I reached into my bag and pulled out the panda mug.
I had brought it with me as a reminder.
A reminder of why I was doing this.
"I've been ready since the moment my daughter whispered in my ear,"
I said.
We left the hotel,
the cold Chicago wind whipping at my coat.
The city felt like a labyrinth,
and I was heading toward its center.
The penthouse was a beacon of glass and steel,
reaching toward the clouds.
May you like
It was the ultimate throne for a man who refused to die.
And I was going to be the one to knock him off it.
