Chapter 8 - The Cornered RatsAt 8:00 PM, my phone rang. It was an unknown number.
I answered it while standing on the private balcony of Emily's hospital room, watching the city lights flicker in the rain.
"Daniel! Oh God, Daniel, please help us!"
It was Eleanor. Her voice was pure terror, completely stripped of any maternal arrogance.
"What do you want, Eleanor?" I asked coldly.
"They're going to kill Ryan!" she sobbed into the phone. "Loan sharks! Criminals! They came to the house! They said if we don't give them two hundred and fifty thousand dollars by midnight, they're going to break his legs and take the house!"
I took a slow sip of my water. "Sounds like a personal problem for Ryan."
"Daniel! He's your brother!" she shrieked. "You caused this! If you hadn't frozen the accounts, we could have paid them off! You drove us into the arms of these monsters!"
The sheer, staggering lack of accountability left me almost amused. They had stolen millions, tortured my wife, hired corrupt cops, and borrowed money from mobsters, and somehow, in her twisted mind, it was still my fault for defending myself.
"Listen to me very carefully, Eleanor," I said, my tone turning into razor-sharp ice. "When I was in the desert, receiving fire from insurgent snipers, I knew who my enemies were. They wore uniforms, or they carried rifles. But you... you wore the skin of my family while trying to destroy my life from the inside."
"Daniel, please—"
"You made your bed with criminals, Mom. Now you get to sleep in it. Do not call this number again."
"Wait! Wait!" she screamed. "What about Emily?! We'll apologize! We'll sign a public confession! Just give us the money to pay Victor!"
I looked through the glass window behind me. Emily was sitting up in bed, eating a bowl of warm soup, laughing softly at a movie on the television. For the first time in months, she looked like she could breathe.
"Emily doesn't need your apology," I said. "She needs your absence. Forever."
I hung up the phone and immediately dialed Sam.
"Sam."
"Sir?"
"Loan shark named Victor is harassing my mother and brother at the North Hill property. He's trying to extract cash before the federal authorities seize the estate tomorrow."
Sam chuckled softly. "Do you want us to intervene, Major?"
May you like
"Intervene?" I replied cold. "No. Call the local SWAT team and tip them off about an armed home invasion in progress at that address. Let's make sure Victor and Ryan meet in a room full of federal officers."
"Copy that, sir. Dispatching the tip now."
