Chapter 11 - The Bank That Wasn’t There
The fake bank changed everything.
The $120 million termination penalty had been inserted into the Seaboard Consolidation Agreement three weeks earlier.
Signed by Damian’s compromised digital certificate.
Approved by Adrian.
Reviewed by outside transaction counsel.
The lender’s address led to a rented office suite in Delaware.
Its telephone number forwarded to an answering service.
Its bank-routing information traced not to a bank, but to an account administered through an offshore payment intermediary.
“Who approved this?” Damian demanded.
Martin Keene looked sick.
“One of our transaction partners relied on documents supplied by Adrian’s team.”
“So nobody verified a bank existed before attaching a hundred-twenty-million-dollar penalty?”
Martin’s silence answered.
Damian nearly exploded.
Then stopped himself.
Elena noticed.
He asked instead, “Who drafted the clause?”
“Blake Soren.”
The attorney whose number had been found in Locker 214.
Shaw obtained a warrant for Soren’s communications.
Soren disappeared before agents reached his Manhattan apartment.
His passport had not been used.
His phone went dark.
Another fugitive.
Victor Dane and Blake Soren.
The conspiracy was shedding people.
Celeste remained in custody.
Her attorneys now wanted to negotiate.
Shaw met her.
Damian was not allowed inside.
Hours later, Shaw returned.
“She says Adrian planned everything.”
Elena gave a humorless laugh.
“Of course she does.”
“She admits she participated in holding you.”
Damian’s jaw tightened.
“What does she want?”
“Consideration at charging and sentencing.”
“She threatened Lucas with a curling iron.”
“That remains part of the case.”
“What did she give you?”
“Victor Dane’s location.”
“Where?”
“A hunting property in western Pennsylvania owned through another company.”
Agents moved immediately.
The cabin was empty.
But Victor Dane had been there recently.
They found food.
Medication.
A burned laptop.
And blood on a bandage.
More importantly, they found a handwritten list.
Damian
Elena
Lucas
Weller
Monday 8:00
Damian stared.
“A hit list?”
Shaw shook her head.
“We don’t assume.”
“What else could it be?”
“People to monitor. People to contact. People to harm.”
“Lucas is six.”
“I know.”
Damian’s face went hard.
Shaw added, “We’re increasing protection.”
Elena asked, “What happened Monday at eight?”
Damian answered.
“The board vote.”
At the bottom of the list was one more line.
If A fails, C takes child.
C.
Celeste?
Shaw believed so.
Damian felt nausea.
“Take Lucas where?”
Nobody knew.
Celeste denied knowledge.
That afternoon, Lucas asked to see the Aurelia.
“No,” Damian said instantly.
Lucas looked disappointed.
“My boat is there.”
“The red speedboat?”
He nodded.
“It’s evidence.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
Lucas looked toward Elena.
“Mom said there might be another eye.”
Elena frowned.
“What?”
“In my blue submarine.”
She stared.
“I never put a camera in that.”
Lucas shook his head.
“No. Uncle Adrian did.”
Everyone froze.
“When?” Damian asked.
“Before Mom went away.”
Lucas explained.
Adrian had given him a blue remote-control submarine as a birthday gift two years earlier.
He said it had a “secret spy camera.”
Damian remembered it vaguely.
Lucas had played with it in the yacht’s small indoor pool and around the marina.
After Elena disappeared, the submarine remained aboard the Aurelia.
Shaw immediately sent agents.
The toy was found in a storage locker.
Its memory module still contained several old video files.
Most were underwater nonsense.
Pool tiles.
Feet.
Dock pilings.
Then a clip from the night Elena vanished.
The submarine sat on a workbench in the tender garage.
Adrian entered.
Victor Dane followed.
Between them was Elena.
Her hands were bound.
Damian stopped breathing.
The footage was clear.
No interpretation.
No edited yacht camera.
No unreliable memory.
Elena fought.
Adrian said, “Stop making this worse.”
She replied, “Damian will destroy you.”
Adrian laughed.
“Damian will destroy himself.”
Dane opened the service door.
Then a fourth person entered.
A woman.
Not Celeste.
Older.
Silver hair.
Elegant navy coat.
Damian whispered, “No.”
Elena stared.
She had never seen that person during captivity.
But Damian knew her immediately.
Margaret Cole.
Vale Oceanic’s lead independent director.
The woman currently running the company.
May you like
Margaret looked at Elena on the recording and said:
“You were supposed to sign the Northstar release, not start a war.”
