Chapter 7 - The Ghost in the TowerThe architect of Warren's old life had survived. And now he was speaking to Warren from somewhere in the Atlantic darkness.
The radio came alive again.
Not Adrian.
An older voice.
Deep.
Measured.
Impossible.
“You always were quick.”
I stared at the radio.
“General Crowe.”
Douglas looked confused.
“Who is that?”
I ignored him.
“Where are you?”
“Closer than you think.”
“You're dead.”
“So was your wife.”
My hand tightened around the controls.
“Don't say her name.”
Crowe laughed softly.
“You still care.”
“That is your problem.”
“No, Warren.”
A pause.
“It is your weakness.”
I looked at the bomb.
Then at the storm.
“Why the plane?”
“Because you wouldn't come to us.”
“You could have called.”
“You never answer old numbers.”
“You could have threatened my organization.”
“I did.”
That stopped me.
“What?”
Crowe spoke slowly.
“Three months ago, two of your warehouses burned.”
I frowned.
“Six months ago, your Chicago shipping company lost its license.”
“Those were accidents.”
“No.”
He sounded almost amused.
“I was teaching you.”
I felt something cold settle in my chest.
Crowe continued.
“You were supposed to understand that everything you built belonged to me.”
I laughed once.
“Nothing I built belongs to you.”
“Then why did your books pass through Black Meridian accounts?”
I looked at Douglas.
He looked away.
It was true.
My legitimate businesses had been audited more than once.
My accountants had always found clean trails.
Too clean.
Someone had been laundering the money for me.
I had thought my organization was smarter than the government.
Instead, someone had been using me.
Crowe said:
“Tonight, the plane lands in Shannon.”
I checked the chart.
“Why?”
“Because the airfield is controlled.”
By him.
Of course.
“If you cooperate,” Crowe said, “the passengers survive.”
“And if I don't?”
“You know.”
The line went dead.
I stared forward.
Douglas spoke.
“We need another option.”
“We have one.”
“What?”
“We don't land where they want.”
I pointed to the chart.
“We land somewhere else.”
“Where?”
“Reykjavik.”
Douglas looked at the remaining fuel.
“Can we make it?”
“Barely.”
The captain, restrained in the back, suddenly laughed.
I turned.
“You think this is funny?”
“You can't land there.”
“Why?”
“Because the runway will be closed.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because your people already shut it down.”
I frowned.
“My people?”
He nodded.
“Your organization doesn't know it yet.”
The radio came alive.
Adrian again.
“You're running out of time.”
I answered.
“Where's my daughter?”
Silence.
Then:
“Safe.”
“Prove it.”
A camera feed appeared on the cockpit display.
Norah was sitting in the rear galley.
Victor beside her.
She looked scared.
But alive.
Then the image changed.
A man entered the frame.
Adrian Vane.
He looked younger than I expected.
Maybe thirty.
Dark hair.
Cold eyes.
He leaned toward Norah.
“Your father used to fly missions with my father.”
Norah looked up.
“Was he a bad man?”
Adrian smiled.
“Yes.”
She thought about it.
Then shook her head.
“My dad isn't bad.”
Adrian looked toward the camera.
Something flickered across his face.
Sadness.
“Your mother said the same thing.”
My blood froze.
“What did you say?”
Adrian didn't answer.
Instead, he lifted the teddy bear.
The one Norah had given me.
The camera zoomed in.
The seam had been opened.
The metal capsule was gone.
Adrian held it between two fingers.
“You thought you had the secret.”
He smiled.
“But your wife hid the key somewhere else.”
I stared at the screen.
“Where?”
He whispered:
“In your daughter's memory.”
The feed cut.
I looked at Norah through the cockpit doorway.
She was staring at me.
Then she slowly lifted her head.
“Dad…”
“What?”
“Mom told me something before she died.”
“What did she tell you?”
Norah's eyes filled with tears.
“She said that if you ever heard a man say the word 'Raven'…”
She swallowed.
“You should run.”
The bomb timer beeped.
Twenty-three minutes.
May you like
And for the first time that night, I realized the thing Crowe feared most wasn't me.
It was what my wife had taught my daughter.
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