Chapter 8 - The Boy's Missing MemoryFor eleven seconds, I couldn't move.
I stared at the empty chair where Samuel had been sitting, trying to force the evidence into an explanation that didn't end with a child's grandfather dead in the snow.
Then Noah stirred.
"Grandpa?"
I crossed the room.
"Wake up, Noah."
His eyes opened slowly.
"What's wrong?"
"Your grandfather isn't here."
He sat upright so quickly that Goliath began barking.
"Where is he?"
"I don't know yet."
The boy looked toward the empty chair.
"No."
He stumbled to his feet and ran toward the basement door.
I caught him before he reached the stairs.
"Noah, listen to me."
"He's down there!"
"We searched the basement."
"You didn't look everywhere!"
His voice cracked.
He shoved against my arm, fighting with a strength that surprised me.
"Let me go! Grandpa!"
Goliath joined him, barking frantically at the open doorway.
I had seen grown men collapse when their families were threatened. I'd watched hardened soldiers beg for the lives of their children.
Noah's terror was somehow worse because he had no armor to hide behind.
I lowered myself to his eye level.
"We're going to find him."
"Promise?"
I thought of the warning he'd given me.
You can't promise things you don't know.
"I promise I'll do everything I can."
He studied my face, then nodded.
Vincent entered the lodge carrying a radio.
"We found the vehicle that took Samuel."
"Where?"
"Five miles east, abandoned near the old quarry. There were signs of a struggle."
"Blood?"
"A little."
"Alive or dead?"
"We don't know."
I turned toward the window.
"Then we find out."
Within an hour, I had assembled a four-man team. We followed tire tracks through the snow until they disappeared beside a narrow mountain road.
At the bottom of the slope stood an abandoned industrial building.
A single light burned behind its upper windows.
Vincent checked his weapon.
"This is too obvious."
"Silas wants us to find it."
"Which means it's a trap."
"Probably."
"And we're going inside?"
I looked at him.
"You're welcome to stay here."
He sighed.
"Seventeen years, and you've never once developed a sense of humor."
We entered through a broken loading door.
Inside, the building smelled of rust and oil. Footsteps echoed from somewhere above us.
A speaker crackled to life.
"Good evening, Mr. Vale."
Silas's voice.
"You're getting careless," I said.
"You're getting sentimental."
The lights came on.
Samuel sat tied to a chair on a metal platform. Blood darkened his left sleeve, but his chest rose and fell steadily.
Behind him stood a man wearing a gray coat.
Silas Vane.
He was taller than I'd expected, with pale eyes and a narrow scar running from his temple to the edge of his jaw.
He held a pistol against Samuel's head.
"Put down your weapon," he said.
Vincent stiffened beside me.
I lowered my gun.
Silas smiled.
"That's better."
"What do you want?"
"The ledger."
"I don't have it."
"Your father left you a clue."
I watched his eyes.
"How do you know?"
"Marcus Bellini tells me many interesting things."
There it was.
Confirmation that my adviser had been working with Adrian.
Silas continued.
"Your father maintained records of payments, weapons shipments, and political favors. Those records could destroy your brother. They could also destroy you."
"I built my own business."
"Nobody builds an empire without stepping on a few bodies."
He glanced at Samuel.
"Your friend here knows that."
Samuel lifted his chin.
"You've got the wrong man, son."
Silas smiled faintly.
"I rarely get the wrong man."
He pressed the gun more firmly against Samuel's head.
"Where is the ledger?"
I considered lying.
Then Noah's voice echoed through the building.
"Grandpa!"
I spun toward the entrance.
He stood in the doorway with Goliath, his face pale with fear.
Vincent cursed under his breath.
I'd ordered the boy to remain at the lodge.
Apparently, he had inherited his grandfather's talent for disobedience.
Silas's eyes brightened.
"Well, well."
Noah rushed forward.
I blocked his path.
"Stay behind me."
"Grandpa!"
Samuel struggled against the restraints.
"Noah, go back!"
The boy froze when he saw the gun.
Silas slowly shifted his weapon away from Samuel.
He aimed it at Noah.
The room stopped breathing.
I felt something inside me go silent.
"Don't," I said.
Silas tilted his head.
"There's the Reaper. I was beginning to wonder whether the stories were exaggerated."
"Take me. Leave the boy."
"That's the problem, Mr. Vale. You keep assuming this is about you."
He smiled at Noah.
"Tell me, little man. What do you remember about your mother's last night?"
Noah's face went blank.
The question struck some hidden place in his memory.
He stared at Silas, then at the black-crown ring on his right hand.
"I remember you."
Silas's smile disappeared.
Noah's voice trembled.
"You were the man who came to see Mom."
For the first time since I'd encountered him, Silas Vane looked genuinely surprised.
And in that moment, I understood.
Adrian hadn't hired the assassin merely to kill witnesses.
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He had hired him because Noah remembered something that could bring an entire empire crashing down.
Something even Silas hadn't been told.
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