Chapter 6 - The Man in the Tactical Vest
A cloud of tiny glass crystals rained down across the passenger seat as the heavy door swung wide open, letting in the cool rush of late afternoon air.
The federal agent standing before her was tall, wearing a reinforced black vest bearing the bold yellow letters SEC-INVESTIGATIVE DIVISION, his face obscured by mirrored sunglasses reflecting Clara's terrified expression.
"Step out of the vehicle with your hands where I can see them," the agent commanded, his voice deep, gravelly, and entirely devoid of human warmth.
"I didn't do anything," Clara stammered, holding up her empty left hand while the burner phone remained clutched tightly in her right. "I made a mistake. I got into the wrong car!"
"You got into the exact vehicle flagged by our terminal surveillance forty minutes ago," the agent replied, stepping closer and reaching down to grab her wrist with a grip like steel. "Clara Vance, you are being detained under suspicion of corporate espionage and interstate wire fraud."
"Fraud?" Clara shouted, struggling against his grip as Marcus calmly slid out from the driver’s side, offering his wrists to a second agent who cuffed him without a single word of protest. "Look at him! He's the one with the forged documents! My husband is the one who set this up!"
"Your husband is currently four miles away at the regional airport, boarding a private charter to Zurich," the agent stated coldly, cuffing Clara’s right wrist to match her left.
The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Clara stopped struggling, her legs turning to water as the meaning of those words sank into her bones.
"Zurich?" she whispered, staring blankly at the asphalt between her boots. "No. David was supposed to be at his office downtown all day."
"David hasn't worked at that office in six months," a familiar voice called out from behind the tactical barrier.
Clara turned her head sharply, spotting Leo—the young man in the grey t-shirt—walking past the federal cruisers with an official ID badge clipped to his belt.
"Leo?" Clara breathed, her mind spinning out of control. "You're federal?"
Leo pulled off his grey t-shirt to reveal a standard tactical undershirt beneath, his expression grim as he looked down at her bound wrists.
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"I'm sorry, Clara," Leo said, holding up a transparent evidence bag containing the burner phone she had just pulled from her pocket. "We've been tracking David's shell companies for a year, but we didn't realize you were his primary signatory until your signature popped up on the transfer papers this morning."
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