Chapter 6: Into the City
The interior of the dark blue luxury SUV was an oasis of cool, quiet leather and subtle refinement. As Michael slipped behind the steering wheel and put the vehicle into drive, the city outside melted into a smooth, silent blur through the tinted windows. Daniel sat gingerly in the plush passenger seat, keeping his canvas duffel bag clutched tightly in his lap like a fragile shield. He looked out at the towering neon hotels and sun-baked concrete of Las Vegas, a city he had traversed for years as a ghost, now viewing it from an entirely new perspective.
“Nice ride,” Daniel muttered half to himself, running a calloused thumb over the polished wood grain of the dashboard trim. “Feels like a spaceship compared to the rattling pickup trucks we drove down in the desert.”
Michael kept his eyes focused on the flowing traffic, navigating the busy boulevard with calm, practiced ease. “Comfort helps keep the mind clear, Daniel. You spend enough years working seventy-hour weeks building a business from the ground up, you learn to appreciate a quiet cabin.”
“You built your firm yourself?” Daniel asked, turning his head to look at the younger man with renewed curiosity.
“From scratch,” Michael confirmed, signaling a lane change and merging smoothly into traffic. “Started with a single beat-up delivery van and a lot of sleepless nights. Lost partners along the way, made bad investments, hit rock bottom more times than I care to admit. That’s why I recognize the look in a man’s eyes when he’s carrying a weight he can’t put down. I’ve been there myself, Daniel. Just wore a different suit.”
Daniel fell silent, digesting Michael’s words. The revelation that this polished, wealthy executive had also known the sting of failure forged an invisible bridge of mutual understanding between them. The distance of age, class, and circumstance dissolved entirely.
“So,” Michael said, glancing briefly at the older Marine before returning his gaze to the road ahead. “What’s the name and address on that piece of paper inside the journal? Let’s put it into the navigation system so we don’t wander around blind.”
Daniel unzipped his canvas duffel bag just enough to slide a rough, weathered hand deep inside. After rummaging through a tangle of old socks and a worn paperback book, his fingers brushed against a small, stiff piece of folded cardboard. He pulled it out gently, as if handling an ancient artifact, and unfolded it on his knee.
“Name is Sarah Vance,” Daniel read aloud, squinting at the faded ink written in his own hasty handwriting from five years ago. “And the address is twenty-eight twelve Elmwood Avenue, over on the east side of town. Near the old warehouse district.”
May you like
Michael nodded, tapping the destination into the digital dashboard screen. The pleasant chime of the GPS confirmed the route, projecting a glowing blue line across the map of Las Vegas.
“Elmwood Avenue is about fifteen minutes away from here,” Michael said, shifting gears smoothly as they accelerated onto the elevated highway. “Let’s go see if she’s home.”
