CHAPTER 8: The Man Behind Miguel
The iron door groaned.
CLANG... CLANG...
Someone was forcing it open from the outside.
Dust drifted from the ceiling after the explosion, coating the old files in a gray haze.
Carla instinctively grabbed a rusted iron bar lying against the wall.
"Ethan..."
"They're coming."
But Ethan couldn't pull his eyes away from the flickering television.
His grandfather's face remained frozen on the screen.
One sentence echoed inside his head.
"Miguel is also not your enemy."
Sixteen years of hatred.
Sixteen years of believing his brother had destroyed the family.
Could all of it be only part of a much larger plan?
The iron door shuddered again.
BOOM!
The locking bar bent inward.
They had seconds.
Ethan hurried to the television and pressed PLAY again.
The recording resumed.
His grandfather spoke more urgently now.
"Listen carefully."
"If they reach this room before you finish watching..."
"...everything I protected will disappear forever."
He reached beneath the desk in the video and lifted an old photograph.
The camera zoomed closer.
Three people stood together.
A young version of Ethan's father.
A smiling woman Ethan recognized as his grandmother.
And between them...
A man Ethan had never seen before.
Tall.
Broad shoulders.
Sharp eyes.
Wearing a military uniform.
His grandfather pointed at the man.
"His name is Victor Salazar."
"The richest man in this province."
"The most dangerous man I have ever known."
Another violent crash echoed through the chamber.
The iron door bent farther inward.
Voices shouted from outside.
"They're inside!"
"Hurry!"
Carla looked toward the entrance.
"They'll break through!"
Ethan shook his head.
"Thirty more seconds."
The recording continued.
"Twenty-eight years ago..."
"Victor's only son disappeared."
"Everyone believed the child had drowned."
"But he didn't."
"He survived."
Ethan's breathing slowed.
His grandfather's voice trembled.
"That child..."
"...was Miguel."
Silence filled the chamber.
Carla stared at Ethan.
"No..."
Ethan whispered.
"It can't be."
His grandfather nodded slowly on the screen.
"Your parents never knew."
"Not even Miguel."
"Your grandmother secretly adopted him after the accident."
"We believed Victor would kill the boy to protect his reputation."
"So we raised Miguel as our own."
Ethan's mind spun.
Miguel wasn't an outsider.
He had grown up believing he belonged to the Santos family.
Just like Ethan.
Just like everyone else.
The recording darkened briefly.
Then his grandfather leaned closer to the camera.
"But Victor never stopped searching."
"When Miguel turned twelve..."
"...Victor found him."
A cold chill crawled down Ethan's spine.
His grandfather continued.
"From that day..."
"...Miguel began changing."
"He became secretive."
"Angry."
"Obsessed with money."
"I confronted Victor."
"He smiled."
"And told me something I'll never forget."
The old man's eyes filled with tears.
"Blood always comes home."
CRASH!
The locking bar snapped completely.
The iron door opened several inches.
A flashlight beam swept across the chamber.
"They're here!"
Carla whispered.
Ethan grabbed the videotape.
"No."
His grandfather's voice shouted from the television.
"WAIT!"
Ethan froze.
"There is one more thing."
The old man opened a drawer beneath the desk.
Inside rested a thick red folder.
Across the front were the words:
PROJECT PHOENIX
"If Victor ever succeeds..."
"...show this to the authorities."
"It contains names."
"Bank accounts."
"Judges."
"Police."
"Politicians."
"Everyone he owns."
Ethan felt his stomach tighten.
This wasn't just about stolen money.
It wasn't even about the land.
It was corruption reaching every level.
The chamber lights suddenly went out.
Darkness.
Only the television continued glowing through an emergency battery.
The iron door swung fully open.
Footsteps echoed inside.
Slow.
Measured.
Not rushed.
Not panicked.
A single flashlight illuminated the room.
Then a familiar voice spoke.
"Everyone else..."
"...leave us."
The armed men hesitated.
"But sir..."
"I said leave."
Boots retreated.
The chamber became silent again.
One man stepped into the light.
Miguel.
Alone.
He looked exhausted.
His expensive suit was torn.
Blood trickled from a cut above his eyebrow.
For several seconds he simply stared at Ethan.
Then...
He noticed the television.
The recording.
The photograph.
His shoulders slumped.
"So..."
"You finally know."
Ethan slowly stood.
"Victor Salazar..."
"...is your father."
Miguel closed his eyes.
"Yes."
"You knew?"
"Since I was twelve."
Carla raised the iron bar.
"Don't move!"
Miguel didn't even glance at her.
Instead...
He looked directly at Ethan.
"I didn't come for the files."
"Then why are you here?"
Miguel's answer came quietly.
"To save your life."
Before Ethan could respond...
A burst of automatic gunfire erupted from the tunnel behind Miguel.
Bullets struck the walls.
Miguel spun around instantly.
"GET DOWN!"
He threw himself in front of Ethan just as another volley tore through the room.
One bullet slammed into Miguel's shoulder.
Another ripped through his side.
He collapsed onto the stone floor.
Outside the chamber, a cold voice echoed through the tunnel.
"You've disappointed me again..."
Slow, deliberate footsteps approached.
Then the owner of the voice appeared.
An elderly man in an immaculate black suit.
His silver hair was perfectly combed.
His eyes were calm.
Almost gentle.
He smiled at the wounded Miguel.
Then looked at Ethan.
"So..."
"My two sons..."
May you like
"...meet at last."
End of Chapter 8
