Chapter 6 - BrothersNathan called me six minutes later.
“Before you say anything,” he said, “Pike is alive.”
“Where are you?”
“Somewhere Kane can’t reach us.”
“You expect me to trust you?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Claire, Victor Kane is cleaning the board.”
I stood beside Maya while technicians tried tracing the call.
Nathan apparently knew they would.
His signal bounced through encrypted relays.
“You were part of Kane’s board,” I said.
“I was.”
“You gave him Owen.”
Silence.
Then:
“Yes.”
The word nearly broke me.
Maya pointed toward the recorder.
Keep him talking.
“Why?”
Nathan exhaled.
“At first I thought we were scaring Owen.”
“You wrote that he couldn’t be recovered.”
“I know what I wrote.”
“You told Kane where he would be.”
“I gave him the route.”
Rebecca was sitting across the room.
She closed her eyes.
Nathan continued.
“Kane told me a local group would hit the convoy hard enough to destroy Owen’s copies and force a change in the operation.”
“And you believed nobody would die?”
“No.”
At least he did not insult us with that lie.
“I knew people could die.”
“Then what’s the difference?”
“The difference is I didn’t know Kane had specifically ordered Owen taken out.”
“You still abandoned him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Nathan was quiet for so long I thought the connection had dropped.
Then he said:
“Because Owen called me by name on the radio.”
I remembered.
Nathan, listen to me.
“They recorded everything,” Nathan said. “If we turned around and brought him back, he would have exposed Kane, Dad, me, everyone.”
“So you chose yourself.”
“Yes.”
Rebecca stood abruptly and walked out.
I almost followed.
Instead I asked:
“Why did you save Pike?”
“Because Kane’s killing anyone who can verify the files.”
“Including you?”
A bitter laugh.
“Especially me.”
Maya wrote on a pad:
ASK ABOUT FARID.
“Do you know Farid Rahmani?”
Nathan stopped breathing for a second.
“Who told you that name?”
“Pike.”
“Is he alive?”
“Answer me.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“I haven’t known for years.”
“Was he there when Owen died?”
“Yes.”
“What did he see?”
“Enough.”
Nathan’s voice lowered.
“Claire, Kane thinks you found Owen’s external archive.”
“We did.”
“I assumed.”
“What’s in it that Kane fears most?”
“Not the money.”
“I know.”
“Not Owen either.”
“What then?”
“The buyers.”
The equipment had not merely been stolen for profit.
Some components belonged to restricted surveillance systems.
Others could be adapted for targeting.
Kane sold them to intermediaries representing governments and factions prohibited from receiving American military technology.
“If that comes out,” Nathan said, “it becomes bigger than a corruption case.”
“Espionage?”
“Potentially.”
“Treason?”
“I’m not a lawyer.”
“Neither was Owen.”
“No.”
There was regret in Nathan’s voice.
I hated him for having it.
It would have been easier if he sounded monstrous.
Instead he sounded exhausted.
Human.
That did not absolve him.
It made everything worse.
“Where are you taking Pike?”
“To federal custody.”
“Then surrender.”
“I will.”
“When?”
“When Pike is safe and when I know Kane can’t reach Mom.”
I looked at Maya.
She shook her head.
Do not promise anything.
“Mom protected you for eight years.”
“I know.”
“She knew.”
“I know.”
“You let Dad ruin himself for you.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“That you’re sorry?”
“I am.”
“To me?”
“No.”
That surprised me.
Nathan’s voice broke.
“To Owen.”
Then he disconnected.
Farid Rahmani’s repair shop was in Silver Spring.
Federal agents arrived before we did.
The shop was locked.
His wife said Farid had gone to visit family two days earlier.
She had no idea where.
Maya showed her Owen’s photograph.
Mrs. Rahmani began crying.
“You know him?”
“Yes.”
Her husband had kept one photograph from Afghanistan.
Owen standing beside Farid and three American operators.
“He saved Farid’s life twice.”
“Did Farid ever talk about Owen’s death?”
“Never.”
“Did he know Commander Holloway?”
Her expression changed.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Commander Holloway came here once.”
“When?”
“Years ago.”
“To see Farid?”
“Yes.”
“What did they discuss?”
“I don’t know. Farid made me leave.”
“Did Commander Holloway threaten him?”
She hesitated.
“My husband was frightened afterward.”
Nathan had known where Farid lived.
Maybe he still did.
At sunset, federal agents located Pike.
Nathan delivered him to a rural sheriff’s station forty miles from Washington, then vanished again.
Pike’s shoulder wound was superficial.
He confirmed Nathan saved him from two armed men.
“He shot one?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
Pike almost smiled.
“Nathan rammed their SUV with his truck.”
It was such a Nathan solution that I nearly laughed.
Straight through the problem.
Maya did not.
“We still need him in custody.”
Two hours later, the first indictments were prepared under seal.
Kane.
Two former executives.
A retired procurement officer.
My father.
Nathan.
Charges varied.
Fraud.
Conspiracy.
Obstruction.
Illegal transfer of controlled technology.
My father would surrender voluntarily.
Nathan’s case remained more serious.
Potential murder-related charges depended on evidence still being developed.
Senator Vale had not yet been charged.
He publicly denied wrongdoing before anyone publicly accused him.
That told us enough.
At 11:18 p.m., my mother disappeared.
Her housekeeper found the back door unlocked.
Mom’s phone lay on the kitchen counter.
A champagne glass had shattered near the sink.
No blood.
No sign of forced entry.
Maya believed Kane had taken her.
I believed Nathan had.
I was wrong.
At midnight, my phone received a video.
My mother sat tied to a chair inside a dark industrial room.
Victor Kane stepped into frame.
He looked exactly as he had at the award ceremony.
Silver hair.
Expensive suit.
Calm eyes.
“Claire,” he said.
“Your family has caused me a remarkable amount of inconvenience.”
My mother stared into the camera.
For once, she had nothing to say.
Kane continued:
“You have something Owen Mercer stole from me.”
Daniel whispered, “He thinks you have the buyer records.”
Kane smiled.
“Bring the original archive and the external storage case to Pier Nine tomorrow at noon.”
Maya began writing instructions to the cyber team.
Kane leaned toward the camera.
“If law enforcement appears, your mother dies.”
Then my mother suddenly spoke.
“Claire.”
Kane turned.
Her face changed.
She was terrified.
But underneath the fear, I saw something else.
Decision.
“Don’t bring him anything.”
Kane slapped her.
My entire body tensed.
Mom looked back at the camera.
Blood appeared at the corner of her mouth.
And then the woman who had spent my entire life defending Nathan, my father and the Holloway name finally said:
May you like
“Tell the truth.”
The video ended.
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