Chapter 7 - The Shadows of Aegis Holdings
The rain poured heavily against the floor-to-ceiling windows of my new office,
blurring the skyline of the city into streaks of grey.
It was 11:00 p.m.,
but sleep was a luxury I could not afford.
Ethan sat across from my desk,
surrounded by secure laptops,
encrypted hard drives,
and tactical intelligence files.
The declassification of my military records had answered questions in court,
but it had opened a far darker doorway in private.
"Claire,"
Ethan said,
turning his laptop screen toward me,
"we finished decrypting the private server files recovered from Ryan's home basement."
I leaned forward,
my eyes scanning the glowing lines of text and financial ledgers.
"What did you find?"
I asked,
my voice quiet.
"Aegis Holdings was never Ryan's idea,"
Ethan revealed,
his expression grave and tense.
"Ryan was just an ambitious idiot who thought he was playing the mastermind.
The real founder of Aegis Holdings is a ghost named Julian Mercer."
I froze,
the name sending a cold chill through my spine.
"Julian Mercer?"
I repeated.
"Related to Daniel Mercer?"
"No relation,"
Ethan clarified quickly.
"Julian Mercer is a former intelligence officer turned rogue defense broker.
He specializes in stealing military technology patents and selling them to foreign shadow syndicates."
Ethan clicked a file,
bringing up an encrypted tactical report stamped with military intelligence logos.
"Look at this timestamp,
Claire,"
Ethan pointed at the screen.
"Three years ago,
during Operation Crimson Vanguard...
the night our helicopter was shot down in Afghanistan."
My hand gripped the edge of the desk,
my breath hitching in my throat as the memory flared in my mind.
"The RPG attack,"
I whispered.
"The enemy forces knew our exact flight trajectory,"
Ethan said,
his voice dark with rising anger.
"Our unit was betrayed by someone inside the Pentagon,
someone who sold our flight logs to an ambush team.
And according to these bank routing numbers,
the money used to pay off that informant...
came directly from an Aegis Holdings sub-account."
I stood up slowly,
my chest aching as if the shrapnel wounds were burning once again.
"The same account my brother was using to siphon money from my father's company,"
I said,
connecting the horrifying dots.
"My father wasn't just losing money,
Ethan.
His company was being used to finance the very strike team that tried to kill me."
Before Ethan could respond,
a sharp knock sounded on the heavy wooden doors of my office.
Ethan immediately reached for his concealed sidearm,
stepping between me and the entrance.
"Who is it?"
I called out,
my voice calm despite the adrenaline surging through my veins.
The door opened slowly,
and a frail,
trembling figure stepped into the dim room.
It was my mother,
Evelyn Cross.
She looked completely broken,
her eyes swollen from crying,
her expensive clothes rumpled and wet from the rain outside.
"Claire..."
Evelyn whimpered,
holding a soaked leather handbag to her chest.
"Please...
May you like
you have to help me.
They are going to kill Ryan."
