Chapter 22 — The File I Would Never Open #2
Simon knew.
“Her mother,” I repeated, testing Simon's reaction. “The patient in Switzerland. The reason Thomas stole the money.”
“That's irrelevant,” Simon cut in, too quickly, too loudly. “Gabriel is trying to deflect. Agent Miller, he's stalling. He doesn't have any ledger. He's desperate.”
Miller looked from me to Simon. A federal agent's natural suspicion kicked in.
“Why are you nervous, Mr. Vance?”
“I'm not nervous. I just want this over with. This man destroyed my family's reputation. My brother's.”
“Your brother?” Miller asked.
“Robert,” Simon said. “Senator Vance. He's worried about the political fallout of having the family name tied to this scandal.”
Senator Vance.
The final piece fell into place. The sound was like thunder in my head.
I didn't have the black ledger. But I'd just stumbled onto its cover page.
Der Architekt.
It wasn't Richard. Richard was the executor. The Architect... was Simon's brother. The politician who provided cover.
I started to laugh.
A low laugh from deep in my chest—the laugh of someone who realizes they've been playing checkers while their opponent played chess, only for that opponent to accidentally knock over their own king.
“What's so funny, Moretti?” Miller asked, irritated.
“You've got nothing,” I said, dropping the pen. “You think Richard was the mastermind. You think I was the accomplice. But you're looking at the bottom of the pyramid.”
I stood up.
“Sit down!” Miller ordered.
“No.” I planted my hands on the desk, ignoring the gun Miller's hand instinctively went to at his hip. “I don't have the black ledger, Miller. I lied.”
Miller's face went red.
“You son of a bitch. You made me clear the perimeter for nothing? I'm gonna cuff you right now—”
“But I know who the Architect is,” I cut in, shouting over him. “I know who was giving Richard his orders. And he's far above me. And far above you.”
I pointed at Simon Vance.
“Ask him about his brother. Ask him about the emails in German he thought Richard had deleted. Ask him about the codename Der Architekt.”
Simon backed toward the door.
“He's insane! Agent Miller, arrest him! He's making up conspiracy theories to save his own skin!”
“Is it a theory?” I looked at Simon. “Then why are you sweating, Simon? Why did you lead the coup to push me out? To protect the firm? Or to protect Senator Vance from being linked to drones killing civilians in Syria?”
Miller's gaze shifted to Simon. The predator had changed targets.
“Mr. Vance...” Miller began.
“This is ridiculous!” Simon shouted, his voice cracking. “I'm the witness here! I'm the cooperator!”
“You're the weak link,” I said, merciless. “And you just broke.”
Miller raised his hand to silence the room.
“Enough. Everyone quiet.” He looked at me. “Are you telling me that Senator Robert Vance is involved in arms trafficking?”
“I'm saying that if you look at Simon's personal accounts and cross-reference them with the dates of the defense committee approvals... you'll find the money that Vanguard paid.”
I wasn't certain. I was guessing. But Simon's reaction was all the proof I needed. He was trembling.
“That's a serious accusation, Moretti,” Miller said. “If you're lying, I'll make sure you die in prison. But if you're telling the truth...”
“I am.”
“Proof,” Miller demanded. “I need more than your word and his sweat. I need a document. An email. A physical link.”
I didn't have it.
The silence returned. Heavy. Deadly.
I had played my last card. I had exposed the real villain, but I didn't have the weapon to kill him.
Simon realized it. He could see I had nothing left.
He smiled again, regaining his color.
“He has nothing, Agent. He's bluffing. Just like always. Arrest him. End this.”
Miller sighed. He looked at me with a hint of disappointment.
“It was a good try, Gabriel. You almost had me.” He grabbed the handcuffs from his belt. “Turn around. Hands behind your back.”
This was it. The end.
I had come so close.
I turned slowly, feeling the weight of failure crushing my shoulders. I was going to be arrested. Simon would walk free. The Senator would remain untouchable. And Elena...
Elena would be alone.
I closed my eyes, waiting for the cold click of metal on my wrists.
But the click didn't come.
What came was the sound of the office door opening.
Not the main door. The side door. The private door that connected to the service corridor, the one I used to avoid unwanted clients.
We all turned.
Elena was there.
She was dressed all in black, wearing the tactical gear she'd had on at the factory. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she was breathing hard, like she'd run up the stairs. She held a gun in her right hand—my Glock—but it was lowered, pointed at the floor.
In her other hand, she held a cheap spiral notebook with a blue cover.
“Elena?” I whispered, shock paralyzing my brain. “What are you doing here? I told you to stay.”
She ignored my question. She ignored the gun Miller reflexively pointed at her.
She looked directly at Simon Vance.
“You forgot to burn the drafts, Simon,” she said, her voice clear and steady in the destroyed office.
Simon stared at the notebook.
“Who is this?” Miller asked, not lowering his weapon.
“She's the proof,” I answered, my heart pounding again.
Elena walked into the room. She placed the gun on a file box, surrendering, but kept the notebook.
“I'm the translator,” she said to Miller. “I translated the original Vanguard emails. The ones Richard thought he'd encrypted.”
She raised the notebook.
“I write everything down. Questions. Technical terms. Names that don't make sense in context.”
She opened the notebook to a page marked with a red clip.
“Page 42,” she read. “Email from January 14th. Sender: Der Architekt. Recipient: Richard Hale. Subject: Final authorization.”
She turned the notebook toward Miller.
“There was a hidden copy on that email, Agent. One that didn't appear in the main header, but was embedded in the source code I had to dismantle to translate the corrupted attachments.”
Miller lowered his weapon and took the notebook.
“CC: [email protected],” Miller read aloud.
The sound of air leaving Simon Vance's lungs was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard.
Elena looked at me.
There was triumph in her eyes. There was exhaustion. But above all, there was love. The kind of dirty, dangerous, loyal love I didn't deserve, but that I was going to spend the rest of my life trying to repay.
“You said you didn't have the black book,” she said to me, a tiny smile curving her lips. “You forgot that I'm the librarian.”
Miller closed the notebook. He looked at Simon, who was now leaning against the wall, looking like he was about to vomit.
“Mr. Vance,” Miller said, his voice taking on a new gravity. “I think we need to have a long conversation about your brother's political career.”
Miller signaled to two agents in the hallway. They entered.
“Take him away. And seize his phone and laptop. Now.”
As Simon was handcuffed and dragged out, protesting weakly, Miller turned to me and Elena.
He was holding the notebook.
“Is this admissible?” he asked me, lawyer to lawyer.
“They’re contemporaneous notes from a sworn eyewitness, corroborated by imminent discovery on the Senate servers,” I replied. “It’s more than admissible. It’s the smoking gun.”
Miller nodded. He looked at Elena.
“You have immunity, Miss Walsh. But this—” he waved the notebook, “—this makes you the star witness in the biggest corruption case of the decade. You’re going to have to testify. Publicly.”
“I know,” she said.
“And you, Moretti...” Miller looked at me. “You still have a lot of explaining to do. Your firm facilitated this. You were negligent.”
“I was deceived by my partner,” I corrected, the lie flowing smoothly now that I had the upper hand. “And as soon as I found out, I acted. I brought you the proof.”
Miller snorted. He knew it was a lie. But he also knew I had just handed him his career on a silver platter.
“Your assets will be unfrozen within 24 hours,” he said. “But Moretti & Hale will remain under federal oversight until the end of the investigation.”
“Fair enough.”
Miller walked to the door. Before leaving, he stopped and looked at Elena.
“You’ve got guts, girl. Walking in here armed...”
“I wasn’t going to use the gun,” she said.
“No?” Miller raised an eyebrow.
“No. The gun was just to make sure no one stopped me from delivering the notebook.”
Miller shook his head and left, taking the circus with him.
We were alone in the destroyed office.
Just Elena and me.
I walked over to her. My legs felt like jelly now that the adrenaline was wearing off.
“You came,” I said, my voice breaking. “I gave you an out. I gave you money, a passport, freedom. And you came here.”
“You gave me a gun and a notebook,” she corrected, touching my chest with her open hand. “And you forgot rule number one, Gabriel.”
“What rule?”
“Accomplices don’t leave bodies behind.”
I pulled her into my arms. It was a desperate, fierce embrace, full of relief and disbelief. I buried my face in her neck, feeling her pulse beat against my lips.
“I’ll never doubt you again,” I promised. “Never.”
“You’d better not,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Because now... now you owe me.”
I pulled back to look into her eyes.
“I owe you everything.”
“Not everything.” She smiled, and there was that beautiful, dangerous darkness in her smile. “Just the rest of your life.”
I kissed her, right there, in the middle of the rubble of my empire, knowing I had lost the firm, lost my reputation, lost control...
But I had won the war.