Chapter 10
Raymond broke after six hours.
Not because he felt guilt.
Because Grant showed him the video of Marcus alive.
Raymond thought Marcus was dead.
That fear cracked him open.
He confessed to moving money.
Forging documents.
Using my mother.
Contacting Victoria through false investment promises.
He denied knowing about children.
Then Grant showed him the manifest.
His face collapsed.
“I didn’t know they were kids.”
“Who is they?” Grant asked.
Raymond swallowed.
“Vale. His aide, Prentiss. A doctor named Lowell.”
“Where is Marcus?”
“I don’t know.”
Reeves stepped closer.
Raymond started crying.
“I swear. I only delivered the footlocker.”
“To where?”
He whispered, “A private hangar outside Charlotte.”
We moved before sunset.
I was ordered to stay at base.
I refused.
Grant stared at me.
“You are five months pregnant.”
“I am also his wife.”
“You are emotionally compromised.”
“Yes.”
“And operationally useful.”
“Yes.”
She looked at me for a long moment.
Then handed me a vest.
“Stay behind my line.”
The hangar was empty when we arrived.
Too empty.
No planes.
No staff.
No Marcus.
But near the back wall, under a tarp, we found his footlocker.
The lock had been cut.
Inside were baby clothes.
Letters to me.
A folded flag.
And a second drive taped under the lid.
I touched Marcus’s handwriting on one envelope.
For our son, if I don’t come home.
I broke then.
Not loudly.
Just enough for Grant to turn away and give me one second of mercy.
Reeves loaded the second drive.
One file opened.
Live coordinates.
A blinking signal.
Marcus had hidden a tracker inside the footlocker.
The signal was moving.
May you like
North.
Toward the mountains.
