Chapter 6 - The Confession of Ghosts
The basement of the Blackwood Steel Mill was damp, smelling of rust and old earth. Silas Reed was tied securely to an iron chair, his expensive suit ruined, his handsome face bruised from the rough handling by the mercenaries. The remaining Iron Jackals had been disarmed, stripped of their cuts, and sent walking down the highway in disgrace. Their syndicate was completely broken.
Leo sat on an overturned wooden crate a few feet away from Silas. Vance stood like a massive shadow behind her, his arms crossed, his eyes burning with vengeance.
Silas coughed, spitting a mixture of blood and saliva onto the concrete floor. He looked up at the little girl, a twisted smile playing on his lips. "You're smart, kid. Smarter than your old man. Marcus was too honorable for this world. He believed in truces. He believed in handshakes."
"He believed in building something that would last," Leo corrected him, her voice chillingly calm. "You build nothing, Silas. You only steal."
"That's the nature of the beast, sweetheart," Silas sneered. "So, what now? You going to let the Anvil here beat me to death with a pipe? Make me suffer?"
"Violence is a tool, not a solution," Leo said, pulling her father's black notebook from her coat. She opened it to the last page. "My father wrote something very interesting in here the night before he died. He wrote: 'Silas is getting desperate. He isn't acting alone. He has a backer. Someone with deep pockets and a political agenda.'"
She looked up, meeting Silas's arrogant gaze. "Who paid you to kill my father, Silas?"
Silas laughed, though it sounded forced. "Nobody paid me. I wanted the territory. I wanted the routes. Marcus was in my way."
Vance stepped forward, grabbing Silas by the throat, squeezing just enough to cut off his air. "The Alpha asked you a question, rat. Answer it."
Leo held up a hand, and Vance reluctantly stepped back, letting Silas gasp for breath.
"You don't understand the power you are playing with," Silas wheezed, his bravado finally cracking. "You think this is just a biker war? You think this is about drugs and guns? Your father was moving something else. Something the people in power desperately wanted to keep hidden."
Leo leaned forward, her hazel eyes narrowing. "What was he moving?"
Silas swallowed hard. "Information. Hard drives. Marcus had intercepted a data shipment from a defense contractor. It proved that the governor was taking kickbacks from illegal arms sales to overseas terrorists. The governor needed Marcus dead before the hard drives reached the feds. He funneled the money to me to make it happen."
The basement fell dead silent. Vance stared at Leo in shock. They weren't just fighting a rival gang; they were fighting the highest level of state government.
"Where are the hard drives now?" Leo asked, her voice tight.
"I don't know," Silas said, genuine panic in his voice now. "We tore Marcus's bike apart. We raided his safe houses. We never found them. The governor is furious. He's sending state troopers to raid your clubhouse by dawn. If you kill me, they'll slaughter everyone in your pack."
Leo stood up slowly. She walked over to Silas, looking down at his pathetic, terrified face.
"My father didn't hide the hard drives," Leo whispered, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out the silver wolf-head ring. She pressed her thumb against the inside of the band. With a soft click, the top of the wolf's head popped open, revealing a tiny, waterproof micro-SD card hidden inside the heavy jewelry.
Silas stared at it, his eyes wide with horror. "It was on his finger the whole time..."
"He gave the ring to me the morning he left," Leo said quietly. "He knew he might not come back. He trusted me to finish his work."
She turned to Vance, her posture straightening, the full weight of her lineage shining through her. "Vance, contact the mercenaries. Have them secure a secure broadcast signal. We are going to leak the data to every major news network in the country simultaneously. And we are going to send the governor a message he will never forget."
"What about him?" Vance asked, gesturing to Silas.
Leo looked at the man who had ordered her father's death. She felt the urge to let Vance tear him apart. It would be easy. It would feel good. But she remembered her father's teachings. ‘A leader is defined not by who they kill, but by who they let live to tell the tale.’
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"Tie him to a lamppost outside the FBI field office downtown," Leo ordered. "Leave all his ledgers and the confession tape taped to his chest. Let the feds tear him apart."
She turned and walked out of the dark basement, the silver ring heavy on her finger, ready to bring down the corrupted sky.
