Chapter 16 #2
I struck her across the face. The crack echoed through the lab. I checked my watch, then glanced at Reid. He nodded. Our time was running short.
"Your attempts to distract me are noted, Doctor. But ultimately futile." I wiped her blood from my knuckles with a monogrammed handkerchief. "Shaw's obsession with my background is irrelevant. What matters is the prototype and his auction plans."
She spat blood, glaring up at me. "He's right about you. Underneath all that polish, you're still that scared little boy from the trailer park. Hiding behind suits and money and hired muscle."
"Perhaps." I smiled thinly. "But that scared little boy grew up to become the man who holds your life in his hands. Interesting how things turn out."
Reid shifted behind her. "Sir, we should move quickly. Local authorities might have been alerted."
"Agreed." I turned back to Hardin. "One last chance, Doctor. Tell me everything else you know about Shaw's operation, and I'll consider a merciful end."
Terror returned to her eyes. Blood leaked from her ruined fingers, pooling beneath the chair.
"There's a laptop in my quarters. Second drawer of the desk, false bottom.
I kept notes despite Shaw's instructions.
Technical specifications, security protocols, contact information for his entire network. "
"Why would you risk that?"
"Insurance." Her voice trembled. "I knew Shaw would discard me eventually. Needed leverage. Something to bargain with when this day came."
I nodded to one of the security specialists. "Retrieve it."
The specialist left quickly. While we waited, Reid cleaned his tools, wiping blood from metal under the fluorescent light.
Fifteen minutes later, the specialist returned with a laptop in hand. Rain had darkened his shoulders. "Found it exactly where she said, sir. Password protected. Military-grade encryption."
"The password?" I asked Hardin.
She hesitated, weighing her final bargaining chip. "VanGelder1994. My mother's maiden name and the year I published my first paper."
I passed the laptop to Reid. He began accessing files. His face remained professionally blank, but satisfaction showed in the slight relaxation around his eyes.
"Extensive documentation, sir," he reported. "Technical specifications, contact lists, even Shaw's private server access credentials. She wasn't exaggerating. This is a complete intelligence package."
"Good." I turned back to Hardin. "You've been surprisingly helpful, Doctor."
Hope flickered in her eyes. The most dangerous emotion. "Then you'll let me go?"
"No." I kept my voice gentle. "But I will make it quick."
The hope died. Her pupils dilated fully. "Please, I can still be useful. I know Shaw's thinking, his methods. I could help you track him."
"You've already given me everything I need." I drew the pistol from my shoulder holster and fired.
The gunshot echoed. Her body slumped in the restraints.
For a moment, silence. Then Reid spoke. "Clean-up team is en route, sir. They'll handle disposal and evidence removal."
I holstered my weapon and stared at Hardin's body. The familiar weight of the pistol triggered an unexpected wave of fatigue.
How many similar executions had I performed? Fifty? A hundred? I'd stopped counting years ago, each death becoming another business expense. Another entry in the ledger.
But this one sat differently. Not because Hardin mattered more than the others.
Not because her death wasn't warranted. But because, for the first time, I questioned how many more lay ahead.
When would the ledger balance? Was there a number that signaled it was time to stop?
To rest? A moment when Jackson Wheeler could finally stop proving his worth through Algerone Caisse-Etremont's accomplishments?
My hand trembled slightly as I tucked the weapon away.
Just age. Just another night's toll on a body that had survived beyond reasonable expectations.
My knee ached, surgical screws and pins shifting with each movement.
The mill explosion had left me daily reminders of mortality.
Physical limitations I could neither out think nor outmaneuver.
The body betrays eventually, even for men who've remade themselves.
"Have the team sweep the facility," I ordered Reid, pushing the thoughts aside. The sharpness in my voice made his spine straighten. "I want every scrap of data, every piece of equipment that might be useful. Leave nothing for Shaw's people to recover."
"Yes, sir." Reid motioned to the security specialists, who moved to carry out orders. They dispersed throughout the facility, seeking anything of value.
I turned my attention to Hardin's laptop. The files confirmed what we suspected: Macau in two weeks. Shaw's buyers, security details, floor plans. Everything we needed.
"The helicopter is waiting, sir," Reid reported, blood spatter still visible on his tactical gear. Rain drummed against the facility roof. "We can be at the airport in thirty minutes. Jet's fueled and ready."
"Good." My fingers tightened around my phone.
Maxime would be in the boardroom by now, facing down Patterson and the rest of the vultures circling our bleeding stock price.
The thought of him dismantling them one by one, of that cold predator emerging from beneath the perfectly tailored suit, made something tighten in my chest. He'd promised to destroy anyone who tried to take what was mine.
I believed him. "I need to make a call first."