Chapter 9 - The Fall of the Mercer Name
The force of the blow sent Gavin crashing sideways into the kitchen table, his gun skittering across the slick floorboards.
Marlowe raised her machine pistol to fire at Tessa, but a sharp, deafening shot rang out from the hallway entrance.
Marlowe gasped, her weapon falling from her hands as a red stain bloomed across her shoulder. She collapsed against the doorframe.
Standing in the hallway, holding a heavy tactical shotgun, was Marcus Vance—his left arm bound in a tight medical sling, his face bruised, flanked by four heavily armed Federal Marshals and the United States Attorney for the Southern District of New York.
"Federal agents! Don't move!" the lead marshal shouted, sweeping into the room and pinning Gavin to the floor as he groaned in pain, blood pouring from his shattered jaw.
Marcus rushed over to Tessa, pulling her and Wren into his arms. "Are you alright?"
"We're okay," Tessa sobbed, holding Wren tightly against her chest as the marshals cuffed Marlowe and dragged Gavin to his feet.
Assistant U.S. Attorney Sarah Williams stepped into the kitchen, picking up the microfilm strip and the opened cryptex from the table. She looked down at Gavin, whose eyes were filled with pure, unadulterated terror as he realized his empire had just collapsed into ash.
May you like
"Gavin Mercer," Williams said coldly, reading from a federal warrant. "You are under arrest for federal corporate fraud, obstruction of justice, witness intimidation, and the first-degree murder of David Vance."
Gavin looked at Tessa one last time as the agents dragged him toward the door. His lips moved, trying to speak through his broken jaw, but no words came out—only the silent, hollow sound of a ruined man entering his living hell.
