Chapter 26 - The Voice That Remembered the Lullaby
Daniel slammed on the brakes, stopping the truck thirty yards from the bridge. The air was dead silent except for the ticking of the overheated engine.
Harold Vance stood motionless, smiling with the cold, aristocratic arrogance that ran through every vein of the Vance bloodline. Behind his car, two more unmarked tactical vehicles blocked the far side of the bridge, sealing the bottleneck completely.
"He was the head of the snake," Daniel said coldly, staring through the windshield. "Not Arthur. Harold."
"Harold created the trust fund with my father forty years ago," Emily whispered, her voice trembling with hatred. "When my father died, Harold spent half the portfolio on offshore accounts in Grand Cayman. If Mason turns seven, federal auditors inspect the trust’s original ledger. Harold will go to supermax prison for embezzlement."
Harold raised the satellite phone to his ear.
Inside the pickup truck, Daniel’s burner phone vibrated on the dashboard. Daniel picked it up and hit speaker.
*"Hello, Daniel,"* Harold’s refined, chilling baritone echoed through the cab. *"I must admit, your persistence is rather exhausting. First the dog collar scandal, then the airfield ambush... you really have a knack for surviving things you shouldn't."*
"The game is over, Harold," Daniel spoke into the mic, his voice deadly calm. "Emily is alive. Mason is with us. The autopsy records are in my hands."
Harold chuckled, a low, patronizing sound. *"Emily is legally dead, Daniel. Her death certificate is registered with the state supreme court. And you? You are currently wanted for the violent kidnapping of your son from protective custody and the homicide of two federal officers at Blackwood Ridge."*
"You forged the APB," Daniel spat.
*"Of course I did,"* Harold replied smoothly. *"I am the law in this district. Step out of the truck with Mason, Daniel. Leave Emily inside. If you do, I will ensure Mason lives comfortably in a private boarding school in Switzerland. If you refuse... this bridge is rigged with twenty pounds of military-grade C4. You won't make it across."*
Daniel looked down at Mason. The little boy was staring up at him, his small hands clutching Emily’s dirty dress, his eyes clear and brave despite the horrors of the last month.
"Dad?" Mason whispered softly. "Remember what you told me in the garden?"
Daniel swallowed hard. "What did I tell you, buddy?"
"You said... monsters only win when we stop fighting."
Daniel looked at Emily. A fierce, unyielding fire burned in her green eyes—the same fire that had made him fall in love with her a decade ago. She reached down, took Daniel’s hand, and nodded.
May you like
"Punch it, Daniel," Emily whispered.
***
