Chapter 5 - Unmasking the Shadows
Footsteps crept up the carpeted stairs.
Through my green-tinted night-vision goggles, I watched the bedroom door swing open. A tall silhouette stepped through the threshold, sweeping the barrel of a suppressed weapon across the room.
It was Clyde—Victor's chief enforcement guy on the construction sites, a sadistic, six-foot-four bully who had personally helped Victor dispose of stolen building materials for years.
Clyde stepped toward the bed, pulling back the covers. "Empty!" he growled into his shoulder radio. "She's not in the master bedroom!"
He turned toward the adjoining security office door—the exact room where I was crouched behind the desk.
He kicked the door open. "Come out, come out, little Violet... Victor sends his regards—"
Before he could finish his sentence, Sarah dropped from the ceiling access panel directly behind him like a ghost.
With blinding speed, Sarah executed a devastating tactical takedown: a sharp knee to the back of Clyde’s knee joint, followed by a hard elbow strike to his carotid artery. Clyde gasped, stumbling forward into the room, dropping his weapon onto the rug.
Clyde whipped around, pulling a long combat knife from his belt, slashing wildly at Sarah in the dark. Sarah dodged the blade by inches, her back hitting the edge of the security console.
Clyde raised the knife for a lethal downward strike.
I didn't hesitate.
I stepped out from behind the desk, raised the stun taser with both hands, and pressed the trigger directly against the exposed small of Clyde's back.
THWIP-ZAPPPPPP!
Fifty thousand volts of high-frequency electrical current surged through Clyde's body. His entire frame locked up in a violent, muscle-spasm tremor. He let out a choked, gargled scream, dropping the knife as his eyes rolled back in his head. He collapsed face-first onto the carpet like a felled oak tree.
Sarah immediately dropped onto his back, snapping zip-tie handcuffs around his wrists and ankles with practiced ease.
She looked up at me, breathing heavily, adjusting her night-vision goggles. "Nice shot, kid."
"He always had terrible reaction time on his left side," I said quietly, lowering the taser.
Downstairs, two loud gunshots echoed through the floorboards, followed by the heavy sound of a body hitting the hardwood floor.
"Clear!" a voice called up from the stairwell. It was Sarah’s lead perimeter guard, holding a flash illuminated by tactical gear. "Marcus is down and secured in the foyer! No casualties on our end!"
Sarah stood up, dusting off her tactical pants, and turned on the emergency auxiliary power switch. The soft yellow interior lights flickered back on, illuminating the captured hitman groaning on the floor.
Sarah pulled off Clyde's ski mask, revealing his bruised, sweat-drenched face.
"Who hired you, Clyde?" Sarah asked, stepping on his wrist with her heavy combat boot. "Victor Payne is in solitary confinement at the county jail. He couldn't have transferred fifty thousand dollars to your account tonight."
Clyde spat a mouthful of blood onto the rug, glaring at me with pure hatred. "Go to hell..."
I stepped forward, kneeling beside Clyde until I was inches from his face. The terror he used to inspire in me at the construction office was completely gone, replaced by a cold, analytical clarity.
"It wasn't Victor," I said slowly, realizing the truth as the pieces re-aligned in my mind. "Victor didn't put out the hit. He doesn't have access to the offshore comms."
I looked up at Sarah.
"It was my mother," I revealed.
Clyde's eyes widened in subtle shock—a tiny reaction that confirmed my deduction instantly.
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"Evelyn?" Sarah asked, stunned. "Your mother is sitting in a remand facility!"
"Evelyn didn't want to save Victor," I explained, my voice chillingly calm. "She wanted to destroy me before the financial audit went to grand jury. Because the multi-million-dollar offshore accounts in Panama aren't in Victor's name... they're in hers."
