Chapter 8 - THE STRIKE
Agent Vance acted with terrifying efficiency. Within thirty minutes, Sarah’s office had been turned into a mobile command center. Four more agents arrived with encrypted satellite laptops, federal arrest warrants, and direct communications lines to the U.S. Attorney’s office.
"We have a problem," Agent Vance said, looking up from his tablet after reviewing local police feeds. "Martha Harrison-Vane isn't at her private estate in Lake Forest. And she isn't at the corporate headquarters."
"Where is she?" I asked, standing up from my chair.
"Our cellular ping team just located her personal vehicle," Vance replied, looking me straight in the eye. "She's at the Harrison Private Aviation Hangar at O'Hare International Airport. A Gulfstream jet filed a flight plan twenty minutes ago for Geneva, Switzerland, set to depart in one hour."
"She’s fleeing the country," Sarah said.
"And she has Alex," I said, my voice rising in panic. "She took him with her! If she gets him onto that plane outside U.S. airspace, he’ll never be seen again!"
Agent Vance picked up his tactical radio. "I'm deploying the regional SWAT team to intercept the aircraft on the tarmac. But O'Hare is forty minutes away in this storm, and federal air traffic control clearance takes time. If she boards that plane before my team sets up a perimeter, we can't legally shoot down an outbound private transport over international waters without a presidential warrant."
"I know how to stop her," I said suddenly.
Agent Vance looked at me skeptically. "Mrs. Harrison, this is a federal operation—"
"Listen to me!" I snapped, stepping directly into his personal space. "Martha is a narcissist. She thinks she has won. She thinks I am a terrified, helpless suburban wife hiding in a closet. She has her phone on her. She is monitoring my husband's private email account because she thinks she owns him."
I turned to Sarah. "Can you draft an emergency injunction freezing all offshore accounts listed in that file, and send the proof of the federal filing directly to Alex's primary email address?"
Sarah smiled—a slow, predatory smile. "It takes three minutes to submit an emergency freeze order to the Treasury Department with an FBI Agent's signature attached. She'll get the notification on her phone instantly."
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"If she sees that her money is frozen, she won't board that plane," I told Vance. "She’ll stall. She’ll demand answers from her legal team. She’ll hesitate just long enough for your team to get there."
Agent Vance stared at me for a long three seconds, then nodded slowly. "Do it."
