Chapter 5 - The Governor's Gambit
Damon stared at the walkie-talkie in the Russian’s trembling hand, his breathing erratic. The voice—small, frightened, echoing through the crackling static—paralyzed him. Leo. They had Leo inside Lockrich.
"Daddy?" The boy’s voice came again, followed by a sharp scuffle, and then a man’s smooth, aristocratic tone took over the frequency.
"Damon Cole. I know you're listening." The voice was unmistakably Governor Richard Sterling. "I am standing in the Warden’s office. Your son is sitting on the leather sofa, drinking a juice box. He’s safe. For now."
Damon slammed his fist against the concrete wall, cracking his knuckles, but he didn't feel the pain. He grabbed the walkie-talkie from the accountant.
"If you touch him, Sterling, I will rip your throat out with my teeth," Damon snarled, his voice a guttural roar.
A soft chuckle came through the speaker. "Violence, Damon. It's always violence with you. Just like your father. But this isn't about you. This is about Elias. I know he gave you the drive. Bring it to my office in five minutes, and I will let you and the boy walk out the front gate. Full pardon. A new life. Keep it, and Leo takes a very long ride with Warden Hayes."
The radio clicked off.
Damon stared at the silver rosary in his hand. The weight of it felt like an anvil. Inside this cross was the evidence to destroy Vicente Reyes, save his son’s future, and avenge his parents. But if he didn't surrender it right now, Leo would die tonight.
"It's a trick," the Russian whispered, eyes darting nervously. "Governor Sterling... he was the district attorney twenty years ago. The one Elias funded to clean up the city. Elias made him."
"And now Sterling is working for the cartel," Damon realized, the pieces locking into place. "Elias didn't just have evidence on Vicente. The drive proves Sterling took cartel money to look the other way."
Damon squeezed the rosary tight.
"Take me to the roof," Damon commanded.
"The roof? But your son is in the Warden's office!"
"Sterling is a politician. He’s a coward," Damon said, his eyes cold and focused. The street-fighter was gone. The tactician, the man who had ruled this prison through cold logic, was back. "If I walk into that office and hand over the drive, he shoots us both the second it's in his hand. We need leverage. I need to transmit this data before I negotiate."
The Russian nodded frantically. "The communications tower. It's on the South Wing roof. If we bypass the mainframe, we can broadcast the data directly to Elias's network on the outside."
They moved fast. The Russian, whose name Damon finally learned was Yuri, navigated the maintenance shafts with the ease of a man who had spent a decade mapping his own cage.
They climbed a rusted ladder, the air growing colder as they neared the roof access.
"Yuri," Damon asked softly as they climbed. "Why did you say 'you shouldn't have left him' back in the infirmary?"
Yuri stopped on the ladder, looking down at Damon. "Because Elias is dying, Damon. Bone cancer. He’s had it for a year. He didn't come to prison just to kill Vicente’s operation. He came here to die, on his own terms, making sure the people he hurt were protected."
Damon swallowed hard. The old man’s words echoed in his mind: I am a ghost.
They reached the heavy steel roof door. Yuri inserted the master key. It clicked heavily, and Damon shoved the door open, stepping out into the freezing night air. Rain lashed against his face. The massive prison yard below was illuminated by harsh floodlights, crawling with heavily armed state troopers.
"The terminal is over there!" Yuri yelled over the wind, pointing to a gray metal box at the base of the communications dish.
They sprinted across the tar-paper roof. Yuri ripped the cover off the terminal, exposing a tangle of wires and a USB port. Damon twisted the silver cross on the rosary. It popped open, revealing the tiny micro-SD card.
"Do it," Damon said, handing it over.
Yuri plugged it in, his fingers flying across the small integrated keypad. "Establishing connection... bypassing firewall... I need ninety seconds!"
Clang.
The sound of the roof door slamming open cut through the storm.
Damon spun around.
Standing in the rain, flanked by two State Troopers, was Warden Hayes. He held a high-powered rifle, the laser sight cutting through the raindrops, aiming directly at Yuri’s chest.
But it was the person standing next to Hayes that made Damon’s blood run cold.
Governor Sterling, wearing a tailored wool coat, holding a small boy by the collar.
"Dad!" Leo screamed, struggling against the Governor's grip. The boy looked terrified, his small face streaked with tears.
"Step away from the terminal, Damon!" Sterling shouted over the wind. "Or the boy goes over the edge!"
Damon froze. Yuri stopped typing, his hands hovering over the keyboard. The progress bar on the small screen read 40%.
Damon looked at his son. Then he looked at the screen.
"Answer one, open two," a voice whispered in the wind.
May you like
Damon looked past the Governor. Emerging from the shadows of the roof access stairwell behind them, bleeding heavily from his shoulder but moving with that same, terrifying, ancestral calm, was Elias W.
And he was holding the wooden bear.
