Chapter 4 - The Federal Mole
Amara woke four hours later.
Ruiz was sitting beside the hospital window.
“You look terrible,” she said.
He gave her a tired look.
“You got shot.”
“And somehow you still look worse.”
He almost smiled.
Almost.
“The bullet missed anything important. You’ll hurt like hell for a while.”
“What about Eleanor?”
“Federal holding.”
“Julian?”
“Same.”
“Vincent?”
Ruiz’s expression changed.
“We traced the call.”
Amara pushed herself higher.
“And?”
“It came from Switzerland.”
“Geneva?”
“Yes.”
That made too much sense.
And not enough.
Ruiz placed a tablet on her blanket.
“We also examined the memory card.”
“You opened it?”
“We copied it.”
Amara looked at the screen.
There were twelve folders.
Each contained a name.
Judges.
Executives.
Politicians.
Bankers.
Then one folder made Ruiz stop.
ROBERT LANG.
“Who is that?” Amara asked.
“My supervisor.”
She stared at him.
“The man running Eleanor’s investigation?”
“Yes.”
Ruiz opened the folder.
There were payment records.
Photographs.
And one audio recording.
Lang’s voice filled the hospital room.
“Once Eleanor moves the Geneva money, we take her. Julian goes with her. Amara must not survive the arrest.”
Amara went cold.
Ruiz stopped the recording.
For several seconds neither spoke.
Finally Amara said:
“Your boss ordered the sniper.”
“It looks that way.”
“Looks?”
Ruiz turned toward her.
“I’ve worked under Lang for nine years.”
“And Eleanor raised Julian for forty.”
That landed.
Ruiz looked away.
His phone buzzed.
He checked the message.
Then stood immediately.
“What?”
“Eleanor is being transferred.”
“Where?”
“I didn’t authorize a transfer.”
Amara felt the room shrink.
“Who did?”
Ruiz was already dialing.
Nobody answered.
He called again.
Nothing.
Then Amara’s phone lit up on the bedside table.
Unknown number.
She answered.
Eleanor was crying.
Not performing.
Really crying.
“Amara.”
Amara sat up.
“How do you have a phone?”
“They’re taking me somewhere.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
A man shouted in the background.
Eleanor lowered her voice.
“Listen to me.”
“You poisoned Vincent.”
“I know.”
“You tried to kill me.”
“I know.”
“Why should I listen to anything you say?”
“Because Julian wasn’t my only child.”
Amara stopped.
“What?”
Eleanor started sobbing.
“The first baby survived.”
Amara’s fingers tightened around the phone.
“What does that have to do with me?”
Eleanor whispered:
“Everything.”
Then the line went dead.
Ruiz stared at her.
“What did she say?”
Amara could barely form the words.
“She said Julian has a sibling.”
Ruiz frowned.
“So?”
Amara slowly looked toward the memory card.
One folder remained unopened.
It had no name.
Only a birth date.
Amara’s birth date.
The next chapters are on the left side of your screen.
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