Chapter 5 - Unholy Alliances
The grey SUV was a warning, but Ethan wasn't a man who frightened easily when it came to his daughter's safety. He spent the entire night sitting in the living room of their small apartment, a heavy metal pipe resting beside his chair, his eyes fixed on the front door.
Every sound—the rattling of the pipes, the wind against the glass, the distant siren on the highway—made his muscles tense.
By Saturday morning, his decision was made. He couldn't keep Grace here.
He packed a small bag for her and walked her over to Nancy’s house. If there was one place in Fairport that was safe, it was the home of the CEO's grandmother. No one would dare attack Nancy’s property.
"Ethan, dear, you look exhausted," Nancy said as she opened the door, immediately ushering them inside. "And what's this bag?"
"Nancy, I have an emergency maintenance issue at one of the other properties in Cleveland," Ethan lied, forcing a calm smile. "I might have to stay overnight to handle a water main break. Would you mind keeping Grace for the weekend? I don't want her staying in the apartment alone while I'm gone."
"Of course, of course!" Nancy said, wrapping her arm around Grace’s shoulders. "We have a birdhouse to paint, remember? And I bought some chocolate chip cookies—the kind without raisins."
Grace giggled and ran into the kitchen, already feeling at home.
Ethan pulled Nancy aside in the foyer. "Nancy... keep the doors locked. Don't let anyone in unless you know them. There’ve been some... strange people hanging around the Brierwood lately."
Nancy’s sharp blue eyes narrowed slightly, her grandmotherly warmth replacing by a sudden, protective intensity. "Ethan. Is something wrong?"
"Just a precaution," Ethan said, kissing her cheek. "Thank you, Nancy. For everything."
As he walked down the porch steps, his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a text message from an unknown number.
Meet me at the old shipyard warehouse on Brier Road. 2:00 PM. I have the proof you need to destroy Gary. Come alone, or the next visit to your daughter won't be a warning.
Ethan’s blood ran cold. He looked back at Nancy’s house, ensuring the door was shut and locked.
He didn't have a choice. He had to end this.
The Brier Road shipyard was a relic of Fairport’s industrial past—a crumbling concrete structure overlooking the grey, choppy waters of Lake Erie. The wind howled through the broken corrugated metal sheets of the roof as Ethan stepped inside the cavernous, shadowed space.
The smell of rust and damp earth was overpowering.
"I’m here!" Ethan shouted, his voice echoing off the metal walls. "Show yourself!"
From behind a stack of rusted shipping containers, a figure stepped into the pale light filtering through the cracked roof.
It wasn't a hitman.
It was Gary Holt.
The Chief Operating Officer of Bennett Aerotech looked as smug as ever, wearing a dark cashmere coat that looked ridiculous in the derelict warehouse. Beside him stood the large man from the grey SUV, his hand resting casually inside his jacket.
"Ethan," Gary said, his voice dripping with condescension. "I must admit, I didn't think you’d have the guts to show up. But then again, you always were a stubborn bastard."
"You threatened my daughter, Gary," Ethan said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, quiet register. "That was your last mistake."
Gary laughed, a dry, humorless sound. "Threatened? No, Ethan. I’m just conducting business. You see, Claire’s private little audit was a bit of a nuisance. But unfortunately for her, she doesn't realize how deep this goes. Half the board of directors approved the budget cuts. We’ve already reaped the bonuses from the BA-320 contract. We aren't going to let a self-righteous engineer and a soft-hearted CEO ruin a fifty-million-dollar payout."
"The wings are going to fail, Gary," Ethan said, taking a step forward. "You're going to kill people."
"People die every day, Ethan," Gary replied coldly. "Cars crash. Ships sink. It’s called statistical probability. We’ll buy insurance. We'll settle out of court. But right now, we need to ensure the FAA launch goes smoothly. And that means silencing the only two people who can prove the data was forged."
Ethan’s eyes narrowed. "Two people?"
Before Gary could answer, the sound of car tires screeching outside echoed through the warehouse.
The heavy iron side doors were pushed open, and Claire Bennett was shoved into the warehouse by another large man in a dark suit. Her hands were bound with zip-ties, her hair disheveled, her cream sweater stained with dirt.
"Ethan!" she cried out, her eyes wide with terror as she saw him.
"Claire!" Ethan took a step toward her, but the guard beside Gary instantly pulled a gun, pointing it directly at Ethan’s chest.
"Ah, ah, ah," Gary warned, clicking his tongue. "Let’s keep our distance, shall we? You see, Claire was foolish enough to try and confront me in my office yesterday with her 'audit.' She thought she could fire me. But she forgot that I control the security team at the Cleveland facility."
Gary walked over to Claire, gripping her chin tightly. She winced, trying to pull away.
"So here’s how this is going to play out," Gary said, turning back to Ethan. "You two are going to have a tragic accident. A private plane crash, perhaps? Or maybe a simple car fire on the highway? We’ll write a nice eulogy for the brilliant CEO and her tragic, disgruntled ex-employee who she tried to help. And Bennett Aerotech will continue to fly."
Ethan looked at Claire. Through the fear in her eyes, he saw something else—an apology, deep and profound. She had tried to do the right thing, and she had walked right into Gary's trap.
"Gary," Ethan said, keeping his voice calm, his mind racing as he analyzed the structural layout of the warehouse. "You won't get away with this. The auditing firm has the data."
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"The auditing firm’s servers suffered a catastrophic fire three hours ago," Gary smiled, his eyes gleaming with absolute malice. "There are no copies left, Ethan. Except for the ones in your head. And those are about to be erased."
Gary turned to his guard. "Finish them."
