Chapter 4 - The Ghost of Captain Julian Cain
The glass conservatory on the southern edge of Raven Hill was overgrown with dead winter vines and choked by dust. No one had used it since the war.
Evelyn sat near the rusted iron table, her hands resting quietly in her lap. The guards stood outside the double glass doors, their backs turned to afford them absolute privacy on Ronan’s direct orders.
Sadie set the tea on the table and knelt on the flagstones beside the wheelchair. Her knees ached through the thin fabric of her pants, but she didn't move.
Why did you come here? Evelyn’s fingers signed, the movements sharp, fluent, and devoid of the tremors that had plagued her for years. Ashport is a graveyard for anyone who loved Julian. Ronan will kill you if he thinks you were part of the betrayal.
Sadie swallowed hard. She reached into the collar of her shirt, pulled out a thin silver dog tag hidden beneath her undershirt, and laid it in Evelyn’s open palm.
The metal was scratched, dented, and singed around the edges.
CAIN, JULIAN M.
O-POS
US ARMY / SPECIAL OPERATIONS
Tears welled in Evelyn’s eyes, but she did not let them spill. She clutched the cold metal against her heart, her breath catching in her throat.
Tell me, Evelyn signed. Every word. No lies.
Sadie began to sign, her hands moving with the steady cadence of a field medic recounting an after-action report:
Four years ago. Northern Syria. Julian’s unit was ambushed at a resupply depot outside Manbij. It wasn't an insurgent attack. The shooters were wearing private security tactical gear. American weapons. Clean exfiltration.
Evelyn’s jaw tightened. Her eyes narrowed into slits of cold hatred. The Vance family.
Julian was hit twice in the abdomen, Sadie signed, her throat tightening as the memories came rushing back with terrifying clarity. I was the triage medic on duty at the forward operating base. The medical evacuation helicopter never arrived. The radio lines had been cut from the inside. I worked on him for fourteen hours in the dirt.
She paused, her fingers hesitating for a single heartbeat.
Before he went into septic shock, he woke up. He knew he wasn't going home. He gave me that tag. He told me to run. He said his brother Ronan was ruthless, but his heart was true—and that someone inside Raven Hill had sold the convoy’s coordinates to Gabriel Vance for twenty million dollars in blood money.
Evelyn leaned forward, her fingers trembling as she signed back: Did he leave proof?
Yes, Sadie replied, her hands steadying. An encrypted micro-drive containing the bank transfers and the satellite phone logs. Julian made me memorize the passkey. He made me swear I would only give it to two people: you, or Ronan.
Where is it? Evelyn demanded.
Sadie looked toward the rain-streaked windows. Hidden where no one would ever look. In a chipped ceramic bowl in an East Side flat.
The sound of footsteps on the gravel outside the conservatory made Sadie freeze.
The glass doors slid open, and Ronan Cain entered. He had discarded his tie, his shirt collar was open, and his eyes swept over the two women with a cold, predatory intelligence. He looked down at his mother’s hands, then down at Sadie’s fingers, which were still raised in the remnants of the military cipher.
“My mother looks more alive today than she has in forty-eight months,” Ronan said, his voice quiet, dangerous. “What did you say to her, Miss Cole?”
Sadie stood up, tucking her hands behind her back. “I was telling her about the weather, Mr. Cain.”
Ronan walked up to her until his chest was inches from her shoulder. He looked down into her eyes, searching for the crack in her facade. “Don't lie to me. It offends my intelligence. The car is downstairs. It’s two-forty. Go get your daughter.”
May you like
He paused, his gaze dropping to her worn shoes.
“And Miss Cole? I'm coming with you.”
