Chapter 45 - The Judas Protocol
The storm outside was absolute fury. Rain lashed against the jagged cliffs like shards of broken glass, whipping the Atlantic into froth and foam fifty feet below our precarious escape ledge.
Tucked into a natural sea cavern at the base of the cliffs sat the backup contingency I had prepared three weeks prior: a twin-engine, black-hulled tactical interceptor boat, anchored securely to the cavern’s granite pylons.
"Get Noah into the cabin!" Marcus yelled over the roaring gale, untying the primary mooring lines with his rain-soaked hands. "The navigation systems are hard-wired. Arthur’s radar won't pick us up if we run low through the breaker zone along the coast!"
I strapped Noah into the shock-absorbing safety cradle bolted to the bulkhead of the cabin, kissing his trembling cheek. "Stay quiet for Mommy, my love. We’re almost clear."
I stepped back out onto the deck to help Marcus cast off the stern line. The salt spray stung my eyes, but through the darkness, I saw something that turned my blood colder than the Atlantic waters.
Marcus wasn't untying the line. He was holding a handheld satellite transmitter—the identical military-grade model used by Arthur’s strike team. The green indicator light on the top was pulsing steadily, broadcasting our exact coordinate beacon.
My gun was out and leveled at his chest before my conscious brain had even processed the motion.
"Step away from the console, Marcus," I said, my voice dead, flat, and hollow.
Marcus froze. He slowly turned his head to look at me through the pouring rain. His expression wasn't one of panic or guilt. It was an expression of deep, resigned sorrow.
"You knew," he said softly, the rain plastering his hair to his forehead.
"You were with my father before he faked his death," I said, pieces of the puzzle snapping violently into place. "When Julian betrayed me, you appeared out of nowhere to offer your services as private security. When Victoria came after Noah, you were always one step ahead. You weren't protecting me from the Vance empire, Marcus. You were guarding Arthur's asset until he was ready to harvest it."
"He saved my sister's life when nobody else would pay for her treatment, Clara," Marcus said, keeping his hands open, palms forward. "I owed him thirty years of absolute obedience. But you have to listen to me—"
"Drop the transmitter or I will put a round through your throat," I demanded, thumbing back the hammer.
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"If you shoot me, you'll never survive the extraction fleet waiting five miles out," Marcus yelled over the howling storm. "Arthur has a naval blockade waiting in the open bay! This boat isn't an escape route, Clara! It was designed to steer you straight into the belly of his flagship!"
***
