Chapter 14 - The Wire in the Woods
By late afternoon, the winter sky had darkened to the color of bruised slate, and freezing rain had begun to glaze the interstate.
Daniel had established a makeshift command center in the conference room of his primary facility, ten miles outside the city.
Screens lined the walls, tracking shipment manifests, interstate traffic cameras, and high-frequency financial ledgers.
Claire sat in the corner of the room, sipping chamomile tea from a paper cup, watching with wide eyes as dozens of young, sharp engineers and analysts moved with military precision at Daniel's command.
This was the man she had mocked as an uneducated grease monkey at every holiday dinner.
This was the man who held the digital throat of the eastern seaboard's manufacturing logistics in the palm of his calloused hand.
Marcus, Daniel’s head of corporate security and a former federal investigator, walked briskly into the room with a tablet in hand.
"We picked up Richard's transponder, boss," Marcus said, tapping the screen to project a map onto the main display.
"He didn't take an airport. He knew customs would flag his passport the moment the SEC fraud alerts triggered at nine a.m."
"Where is he?" I asked, stepping closer to the console.
"He's using his family's private hunting cabin up in the Allegheny foothills near the Pennsylvania border," Marcus replied.
"And he didn't run alone. We have footage from an automated toll booth two hours ago. He's traveling with Victoria Sterling."
A sharp intake of breath echoed through the room as Claire dropped her paper cup, spilling hot tea across the industrial carpet.
Victoria Sterling was Claire’s maid of honor, her best friend since boarding school, and the daughter of one of Arthur Coleman's closest political allies.
The betrayal cut so deep that Claire couldn't even scream; she simply curled into herself, gasping for breath as my mother rushed to hold her.
"He moved six million dollars into a blind trust registered in Victoria's name yesterday morning before Thanksgiving dinner," Marcus explained, his tone completely professional.
"They're waiting for a private chartered helicopter to lift them across the border into Canada from a private logging pad tomorrow at dawn."
Daniel leaned forward over the table, resting his weight on his knuckles, his jaw set like carved granite.
"He thought Thanksgiving was a diversion," Daniel murmured, his eyes narrowing. "He showed up at Arthur’s house yesterday to play the dutiful son-in-law while his mistress staged their getaway."
"What do we do, Daniel?" Claire sobbed, looking up with wild, desperate eyes. "The authorities... will they catch him in time?"
"If we wait for the federal marshals to file interstate warrants over a holiday weekend, the helicopter will be in international airspace before the paperwork clears the clerk's desk," Daniel said calmly.
He straightened his spine, pulling a heavy canvas work jacket over his shoulders and zipping it to the collar.
"Marcus, prep the heavy-duty service rigs. Emily, stay here with your family and monitor the feeds."
"I'm not staying behind, Daniel," I said firmly, grabbing my winter coat from the coat rack.
"Richard didn't just steal from Claire. He tried to destroy my husband's name and leverage my family's ruin to pad his escape. I'm coming with you."
May you like
Daniel looked into my eyes, searching for hesitation and finding only steel.
"Bring your boots," Daniel said simply. "It’s muddy in the mountains."
