Chapter 7 - Tearing Down the Bridge
The floor-to-ceiling glass windows behind Adrian’s desk suddenly shattered inward as a flashbang grenade detonated on the outdoor balcony. The blinding light and deafening roar sent Adrian’s men crashing to the floor, covering their eyes in agony.
Before the smoke could clear, four heavily armed tactical officers from the Federal Bureau of Investigation burst through the broken glass, their weapons drawn, laser sights painting the room in a web of crimson dots.
"FBI! Nobody move! Drop your weapons!" a voice boomed through the shattered office.
Desmond Cole stepped through the main entrance doors, accompanied by Assistant U.S. Attorney Evelyn Vance—no relation to Eleanor Vance, but a woman who had been investigating international financial fraud in the shipping sector for two years.
"Adrian Voss," Assistant U.S. Attorney Vance said, stepping forward as tactical officers slammed Adrian onto his minimalist desk, ratcheting heavy steel handcuffs onto his wrists. "You are under arrest for conspiracy to commit human trafficking, wire fraud, and extortion. We have a federal warrant for your arrest and a seizure order for every server in this building."
Adrian, his face pressed against the polished mahogany of his own desk, looked up at Marcus with a mixture of shock and unadulterated venom. "You ruined everything, Marcus! You destroyed the Whitfield Harbor Group! The investors will pull out by morning! You’re finished!"
Marcus walked over to the desk, leaning down until his face was inches from Adrian’s. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small, cracked plastic bracelet with the green beads, letting it dangle before Adrian’s terrified eyes.
"You thought my empire was made of concrete and cash, Adrian," Marcus said softly, his voice cutting through the chaos of the room like a razor. "But my empire is sitting in my living room right now, safe and warm. I don't care about the stock price. I don't care about the Northline acquisition. I care about my family. And you will spend the rest of your miserable life behind bars for what you did to them."
As Adrian and his thugs were dragged out of the building in chains, Desmond walked up to Marcus, a look of profound respect on his weathered face.
"The federal marshals are raiding the Haven Bridge facility in North Seattle right now, Marcus," Desmond said. "Director Eleanor Vance was caught trying to destroy their adoption registries at her home. They’ve secured all the records. No more children will ever disappear from that place."
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Marcus let out a long, ragged breath, the tension that had held his body rigid for twelve hours finally dissolving. He looked out at the dark harbor, where the rain was beginning to clear, revealing the first faint light of dawn breaking over the Cascade Mountains.
"Let’s go home, Desmond," Marcus said, his hand tightening around the small green beaded bracelet. "My kids are waiting for me."
