Chapter 30 - ghost across the water
The interceptor’s enclosed cabin smelled of diesel fuel, wet neoprene, and the metallic tang of loaded magazines. Clara sat beside the tactical console, the thermal blanket draped over her shivering shoulders, but the cold inside her chest had nothing to do with Lake Michigan.
On the high-resolution navigation screen, a pulsing red vector tracked north toward the Canadian border.
"The freighter is the *Valkyrie*," Roman’s tactical commander, Vance, reported, his fingers dancing across the encrypted terminal. "Four hundred feet of reinforced steel. She loaded heavy cargo containers in Gary yesterday afternoon under private charter. But here is the anomaly, Roman—the harbor manifest was signed off by Gregory Vance three weeks after his supposed death."
"Gregory never died," Clara said softly, the realization falling into place with terrifying precision. "He was my father’s attorney, but he was my mother’s lieutenant. Every piece of paperwork that stripped my father's fortune... every signature that left me with nothing... it was all cleared through him."
Roman stood behind her, his hand resting firm and warm against the nape of her neck, anchoring her against the rolling waves. "Eleanor played the long game, Clara. She married your father for the Sterling name, established the corporate shell forty years ago, and used Gregory to funnel the wealth into anonymous maritime accounts. When your father found out, she staged her own disappearance and left him to shoulder the debts until his heart gave out."
"And the woman in the guest house?" Clara asked, looking up into his hardened features. "The one with the silk dress and the blank eyes?"
"A pawn," Vance answered, pulling up facial recognition logs. "An institutionalized woman from a private clinic in Geneva. Eleanor bought her records ten years ago, had her surgically altered to look like her mirror image, and kept her sedated to draw out anyone searching for the real Eleanor."
"Julian was right about one thing," Roman said, his gaze fixed on the radar blip accelerating into international waters. "She has eight hundred million dollars in bearer bonds and physical gold sitting in those cargo holds. If she crosses into Canadian maritime jurisdiction without interception, she vanishes forever into private airfields in Quebec."
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Clara threw off the foil blanket. She picked up a dry tactical jacket from the equipment rack and pulled it over her shoulders.
"Then we don't let her cross," Clara said, her voice steady and clear. "Take us to that ship."
