Chapter 10 - The High Catwalk
The crimson laser dot burned steadily against the fabric of Julian’s shirt, casting a tiny, baleful light over his chest. Julian slowly opened his right hand, letting the Sig Sauer clatter onto the concrete floor at his feet. He raised both hands slowly, stepping slightly in front of Clara and the children to shield them from the line of fire.
"Who's up there?" Julian called out, his voice echoing off the towering concrete walls of the abandoned water treatment plant. "If you're Apex, you already missed the data. It's mirrored to an off-site cloud server."
A figure stepped out from the deep shadows of the high industrial catwalk, leaning casually against the rusted handrail fifty feet above. Even in the dim moonlight, the sharp tailoring of a bespoke dark suit contrasted sharply with the industrial decay of the surrounding room. It wasn't a tactical operative from Apex Security. It was a man Julian recognized instantly—Director Marcus Hayes himself.
"Data is transient, Julian," Hayes called down, his voice smooth and cultured, carrying effortlessly across the cavernous space. "People, however, are remarkably permanent once you put them in the ground. Pick up your son, Clara. Let's not traumatize the boy any more than necessary."
Clara clutched Carter tighter against her hip, her face draining of all remaining color. "Don't listen to him, Julian. He's the one who ordered the hit on the journalist."
"The journalist was a traitor to his country, Mrs. Vance," Hayes replied smoothly, taking a slow step down the rusted metal stairs leading from the catwalk. "He leaked operational security details that resulted in the deaths of three deep-cover assets overseas. Your husband knew that. In fact, your husband helped compile the target dossier."
Julian clenched his jaw, a muscle ticking violently in his cheek. "I compiled logistical intelligence for domestic defense, Hayes. I never signed off on extrajudicial assassinations in safehouses."
"A semantic distinction for a bureaucrat," Hayes said, descending further down the steps until he stood on the mid-level landing, looking down at them like a judge inspecting insects. "You took the files, Julian. You thought you could use them as leverage to secure your family's golden parachute. But you forgot one crucial detail."
Julian frowned. "What detail?"
Hayes smiled, a cold, humorless stretching of the lips. "The girl you left behind in the living room. The one you thought was just a domestic dispute. Clara didn't just find the safe by accident today, Julian. She was led to it."
Julian’s head snapped toward his wife in stunned disbelief. He looked at Clara, seeing the sudden, guilty flash in her eyes before she could mask it.
"What are you talking about?" Julian whispered, his heart shattering into a thousand jagged pieces as he stared at the woman he had trusted with his life.
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Before Clara could answer, a bright, blinding floodlight suddenly snapped on from the rafters behind Hayes, bathing the entire chamber in harsh, white artificial light.
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