Chapter 8 - THE LEVERAGE
The steel mill on the edge of the Monongahela River was a rusted, decaying monolith. Snow swirled around the abandoned blast furnaces as Elliot’s black SUV pulled up, flanked by two tactical vans.
Elliot stepped out into the freezing wind. He wasn't wearing his overcoat; he wore a tactical vest over his tailored shirt. Marcus walked beside him, holding an assault rifle. They didn't sneak in. Elliot walked right up to the heavy metal doors of the main warehouse and kicked them open.
Inside, Victor Silas sat at a makeshift desk, smoking a cigar. A dozen heavily armed thugs surrounded him. Tied to a chair in the center of the room was Sarah Carr. She was battered, exhausted, but her eyes snapped up with fierce defiance when the doors blew open.
“Whitaker,” Silas laughed, though his eyes were nervous at the sight of Marcus’s heavily armed squad pouring in behind Elliot. “You’re early. I sent my boys to your place—”
“Your boys are currently gift-wrapped in a police precinct,” Elliot interrupted, his voice echoing in the cavernous mill. “And your COO inside man is facing federal espionage charges.”
Silas stood up, pulling a pistol from his waist and aiming it at Sarah’s head. “I don’t care about them. Where is the drive?”
Elliot reached into his pocket and pulled out the silver USB drive. He held it up under the dim industrial lights.
“Right here,” Elliot said. “But the deal has changed, Victor.”
“There is no new deal!” Silas roared. “Hand it over, or the mother dies!”
“If she dies,” Elliot said, taking a step forward, completely unafraid of the gun, “you die broke. Ten minutes ago, my team initiated a cascade hack into the offshore accounts listed on this drive. We drained the Caymans. We drained Zurich. Your accounts are zeroed out, Victor. The money is gone. Donated to a dozen orphanages across the globe.”
Silas froze. His face went purple with rage. “You’re bluffing!”
Elliot tossed a burner phone onto the floor. “Call your banker in Geneva. Ask him.”
One of Silas’s lieutenants picked up the phone, dialed, and listened. He looked at Silas, his face pale. “Boss... he’s right. The accounts are empty. We’re broke.”
The loyalty of mercenaries is bought, not earned. The moment the thugs realized Silas couldn't pay them, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Guns that were pointed at Elliot slowly lowered.
“You son of a bitch,” Silas whispered.
“Let the woman go,” Elliot commanded. “Or the second part of the hack sends your ledgers to the FBI, and you spend the rest of your life in a maximum-security cell. Walk away, Victor. You have nothing left.”
Silas looked at his men, who were already backing away into the shadows. Defeated, shaking with fury, he lowered the gun.
“This isn’t over,” Silas spat.
“It is for you,” Marcus said, stepping forward and leveling his rifle at Silas’s chest. “Run.”
Silas dropped the gun and fled into the snowy night.
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Elliot didn't watch him go. He sprinted to Sarah Carr, pulling a knife from his vest to slice through her thick bindings. Sarah collapsed forward, sobbing uncontrollably. Elliot caught her gently.
“You’re safe,” Elliot said quietly. “Maddie and Rosie are waiting for you.”
