Chapter 9 - The Dead Mother's Debt
"You have good medical instincts, Nurse," a low, gravelly woman's voice said from the darkened doorway.
Sarah froze, slowly raising her hands. Stepping into the shaft of moonlight was a woman in her late forties, wearing a tailored charcoal coat over tactical gear. Her hair was pulled back into a severe bun, and her cold gray eyes were identical to the photographs Mark kept on his bedside table.
Sarah gasped. "Claire?"
"Claire is dead," the woman said coldly, keeping the weapon trained on Sarah’s forehead. "Claire was a suburban identity created by the Federal Witness Protection Program. My name is Agent Helen Vance. And that little girl on the table is the only leverage I have left against the men who burned my life to ash."
"You used her," Sarah whispered in horror, glancing back at Lily's pale, unconscious face. "You put that package in her boots."
"I hid the syndicate's master ledger inside three dozen pairs of children's shoes shipped out of the regional distribution hub before my cover was blown," Helen replied without a flicker of remorse. "I couldn't predict which shipment would reach Mark. But blood always finds blood. The tracking frequency was keyed to her biological markers."
From the shadows of the broken window frame, a familiar voice cut through the damp air like a razor: "You're a monster, Helen."
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Mark stood in the opening, a bloodied iron pipe gripped in both hands.
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