focal

Chapter 7 - The Intercept

Inside the cabin, Evelyn was brewing bitter coffee on the old propane stove. She had watched the interaction on the porch through the kitchen window, her expression softening from hostility to a profound, weary sadness.

When Julian walked back inside, she handed him a mug without looking him in the eye.

“She looks just like you when she gets stubborn,” Evelyn said quietly.

“She has Clara’s eyes,” Julian replied, taking the mug.

“Julian, we can't stay here forever. Dominic won't stop. He thinks Clara had five million dollars from your last job. He told his men if they didn't bring the money, they should bring Clara’s sister and child to make an example.”

Julian took a slow sip. “There is no money, Evelyn. Dominic made that up to justify hunting me down. In our world, an enforcer leaving on his own terms makes the boss look weak. Dominic doesn't care about cash. He cares about control.”

Suddenly, Julian’s encrypted burner phone vibrated against the counter. It was a private frequency only three people in the state possessed. Two of them were dead.

Julian tapped the speakerphone.

“Julian,” a raspy, aristocratic voice came through the line. Dominic Cole. “I hear you attended Clara’s memorial. Very touching. You always were sentimental.”

Julian’s face went rigid as granite. “If you ever mention her name again, Dominic, I’ll bury you where nobody will ever find you.”

Dominic laughed, a dry, wheezing rattle. “You haven't lost your edge. But you’ve made a mistake. My boys tracked Evelyn’s credit card at a gas station sixty miles south of your current location. We know the quadrant. It will take my team four hours to comb every cabin on that mountain.”

Evelyn gasped, clutching her mouth in horror. She had bought a bottle of water at the highway stop.

“Here is my offer, Julian,” Dominic continued smoothly. “Bring the girl to the abandoned cannery in Astoria by noon. Just the girl. You can walk away, start fresh in South America. Give her to me, and Clara’s debt is paid.”

May you like

“You touch one hair on her head,” Julian said, each word laced with pure venom, “and I will rip your empire down brick by brick.”

“Noon, Julian,” Dominic said, and the line went dead.

Related Stories

Other posts