Chapter 8: The Price of Silence**
Cross froze mid-step. For the first time, a flicker of genuine guilt washed over his weathered face.
"Leo... you don't understand the scope of what Holloway was doing," Cross said quietly, his voice dropping low enough that his subordinate officers couldn't hear. "He didn't just reallocate money. He threatened the entire economic foundation of the city's power grid. If that ledger goes public, dozens of institutions will collapse."
"Good," Leo said without hesitation. "Because those institutions let mothers die so they could build glass towers."
Dr. Rossi stepped between Cross and the boy, her arms outstretched defensively. "He's just a child, Agent Cross. He saved his sister’s life. Are you really going to arrest a twelve-year-old for paying a medical bill?"
"Doctor, step aside," Cross ordered, his tone hardening. "This is national security."
"No," a deep, gravelly voice echoed from the shadowed doorway of the maintenance stairwell. "It’s extortion, Douglas. And you always were terrible at hiding your tracks."
Cross spun around, reaching for his firearm, but stopped dead in his tracks.
Emerging from the dimly lit stairwell was a man leaning heavily on a wooden cane. His left arm was wrapped in medical bandages, and deep burn scars marked his jawline, but his piercing blue eyes were unmistakably sharp.
Thomas Holloway.
"You're dead," Cross breathed, his voice barely a rasp. "We recovered the wreckage off the coast."
"You recovered an empty fuselage," Holloway said, taking a slow, measured step forward. "Did you really think I'd get on that plane without checking the hydraulic lines you cut?"
Leo looked at the old man, tears finally spilling freely over his eyelashes. "Mr. Holloway..."
May you like
Holloway smiled gently at the boy. "You played the board brilliantly, Leo. Now let’s finish the game."
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