“That’s why they won’t stop,” she murmured. “That’s why they’ll kill us both.” He stared at the road, his mind racing. They needed to disappear, but Silas wouldn’t stop until the drive was destroyed and Sarah was silenced. Mike took a breath. “Alright, here’s what we’re going to do.”
“We’re not running anymore,” he continued. “We’re going to finish this.” Her eyes went wide. Mike gripped the wheel. “I know a guy,” he added. “A guy who can make people like your father pay for what they’ve done.” She swallowed. “Can we trust him?”
Mike gave a dry smile. “He’s our only shot.” He pushed the accelerator, and the truck surged forward. The road was dark and dangerous, but they weren’t just fleeing anymore—they were taking the fight back to the ghosts of the past.
The road ahead felt like a tunnel into the unknown. Mike kept his eyes on the mirrors, watching for headlights that lingered too long. So far, the road was empty, but he knew Silas’s reach. That USB drive was a ticking time bomb—names, dates, payoffs. If they got caught, they were dead. Mike thought of the one man who could handle this.
Jack Vance. An ex-military contractor who lived off the grid and specialized in making problems go away. Years ago, Jack had helped Mike disappear, and now Mike was going to ask for one more favor. He picked up his phone and, seeing a bar of service finally appear, dialed a number from memory. After three rings, a gravelly voice answered. “Mike Miller. It’s been a long time.”
Sarah looked over, fear and confusion in her eyes. Mike ignored it and kept talking. “I need help, Jack. Now.” There was a pause on the other end. “What kind of mess are we talking about?” Mike gritted his teeth. “Silas Sterling.” The silence that followed was heavy.
Then Jack’s voice turned cold. “Where are you?” “Heading toward the outskirts of Baltimore,” Mike replied. “Meet me at the old shipping warehouse off Route 1. Bring the girl. And make sure you aren’t followed,” Jack commanded and hung up. Mike tossed the phone on the dash.
“Who was that?” Sarah asked. “A man who can get this data to the right people,” Mike said. “Can we trust him?” she asked again. Mike looked at her. “We have to.” They pulled up to a derelict warehouse an hour later, surrounded by rusted fences and the skeletal remains of old industry. Mike killed the lights.
“Stay close,” he told Sarah. She nodded, clutching the drive. They stepped out into the cold, their boots crunching on frozen gravel. A shadow moved in the darkness of the warehouse door. Mike tensed, stepping in front of Sarah to shield her.
Jack Vance stepped into the dim light—same sharp eyes, same buzz cut. He wore a tactical jacket and moved with a quiet, dangerous grace. “Mike,” he said with a nod. He looked past Mike at Sarah. “So, this is the Sterling girl.”
Sarah froze under his gaze. Jack studied her for a long moment, his face unreadable. Then he looked at Mike. “You have any idea what you’ve brought to my doorstep?” Mike sighed. “More than you want to know.” He told Jack everything—the list, the chase, Silas. When he finished, Jack let out a slow breath.
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