Chapter 17 - The Ghost of Claire Sterling and the Federal Gambit
The knock on the door came at 9:00 AM,
just as the sun was beginning to burn through the morning fog.
It wasn't a professional killer or a corporate spy.
It was a man in a cheap polyester suit with a badge clipped to his belt.
Agent Miller,
Department of Justice.
I hadn't seen him in six years,
but he hadn't changed—
same receding hairline,
same smell of stale coffee and bureaucratic spite.
"Claire,"
he said,
stepping into the foyer without an invitation.
"The word on the street is that you’ve come back from the dead."
"And you’ve been busy playing house with the most dangerous man in the Tri-State area."
I stood my ground,
feeling the weight of the Russo estate behind me.
"My name is Elena Vance,"
I said,
my voice steady.
"I don't know who Claire is."
Miller laughed,
tossing a folder onto the hall table.
"The fingerprints from the boat in Italy say otherwise."
"The DOJ has been looking for you since the Sterling audit went missing."
"We thought the Syndicate got you."
"Turns out,
you were just hiding in plain sight,"
"scrubbing toilets for the very people you were supposed to be investigating."
"I was protecting my daughter,"
I hissed,
stepping closer to him.
"Something the DOJ failed to do when they let my partner get gunned down in a parking garage."
Miller’s expression hardened.
"We can offer you a deal,
Claire."
"Testify against Russo."
"Give us the keys to the Atlantic Harbor terminals."
"And we’ll clear your name."
"We’ll give you and the girl a real witness protection package."
"Not this...
this gilded prison."
"She’s not a prisoner,"
Victor’s voice boomed from the top of the stairs.
He descended slowly,
each step a rhythmic threat.
"And she’s not testifying against anyone."
"Because there is no crime to report."
"The traitors are dead,
Agent Miller."
"The corruption has been purged."
"And Atlantic Harbor is now under the oversight of a woman who knows more about your department’s failings than you do."
Miller looked at Victor,
then back at me.
"You’re making a mistake,
Claire."
"Russo is a shark."
"Eventually,
he’ll get hungry,
and you’ll be the only thing left in the tank."
"I’m not in the tank,
Miller,"
I said,
opening the front door.
"I’m the one who built the glass."
"Now,
get out before I file a harassment suit that will keep your office in depositions for the next decade."
As Miller walked away,
I felt the adrenaline fade,
replaced by a cold realization.
The Syndicate was one enemy.
The law was another.
And I was caught in the middle,
holding the only thing that mattered—
the truth about the Russo bloodline.
"He’ll be back,"
Victor said,
placing a hand on my shoulder.
"I know,"
I replied.
"But by the time he does,"
May you like
"I’ll have finished the audit."
"And he won't like what I find."
