Chapter 15 - Father and SonDamen did not go alone.
He merely allowed Viktor to believe he had.
The meeting took place inside an abandoned Catholic church in South Boston scheduled for demolition.
Damen entered through the front.
Marcus positioned surveillance teams three blocks away.
Claudia monitored communications from a van.
Sera remained in the vehicle.
She hated it.
But this was Damen’s confrontation.
Not hers.
At exactly 9:00 P.M., a man stepped from behind the altar.
Damen forgot how to breathe.
Viktor Voss was seventy-two.
Older.
Thinner.
Gray beard.
But alive.
Absolutely alive.
“Hello, son.”
Damen’s hand remained inside his coat.
“Twelve years.”
“I know.”
“I buried you.”
“You buried Adrian.”
“Why?”
Viktor sighed.
“Because I made mistakes.”
Damen laughed once.
It contained no humor.
“You’re going to need a larger word.”
Viktor approached.
Damen drew his gun.
“Stop.”
Viktor stopped.
For the first time, something like pain crossed his face.
“You became exactly what I expected.”
“Is that supposed to mean something?”
“Strong. Controlled.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I know everything about you.”
“No.”
Damen raised the weapon slightly.
“You know reports.”
Viktor’s eyes shifted.
“You love her.”
Damen’s expression changed.
“That is the only warning you get.”
“I’m not threatening Sera.”
“You threatened her through Marcus.”
“I needed you here.”
“You had me the second you crawled out of your grave.”
Viktor looked toward the ruined stained-glass windows.
“Charles Whitaker and I built something thirty years ago.”
Damen waited.
“An alliance. Shipping, finance, political protection. We told ourselves it was business. Smuggling. Influence. Information.”
“What information?”
“Secrets.”
Viktor smiled without warmth.
“Secrets are worth more than narcotics if you know whose secrets to buy.”
Judges with mistresses.
Politicians with offshore accounts.
Executives with addictions.
Police commissioners with hidden children.
“You blackmailed them.”
“We controlled them.”
“And Margaret discovered it.”
“Yes.”
Damen’s finger tightened near the trigger.
“Did you kill her?”
“No.”
“Did Charles?”
“No.”
“Then what happened?”
“She got sick.”
Damen stared at him.
“That simple?”
“Sometimes tragedy doesn’t require conspiracy.”
“Why did she hide evidence?”
“Because she knew Charles intended to destroy her family if she exposed us.”
“And you?”
Viktor’s silence answered.
Damen’s face hardened.
“You threatened her.”
“I warned her.”
“Same thing when the warning comes from men like us.”
Viktor looked almost proud.
“That sounds like something your wife would say.”
Damen took another step.
“Do not talk about her.”
“Margaret made me promise something.”
That stopped him.
“What?”
“If anything happened to her, I would watch Sera from a distance.”
Damen stared.
“You protected Sera?”
“I tried.”
“Grant beat her for years.”
Viktor’s face tightened.
“I didn’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Charles hid Grant’s behavior even from me.”
“Convenient.”
“Grant was his father’s weakness.”
“No. Grant was a monster enabled by cowards.”
Viktor absorbed the insult.
Then he reached slowly inside his coat.
Damen’s gun snapped toward his chest.
Viktor removed a flash drive.
“Everything Margaret never found.”
He placed it on a pew.
“Names. Accounts. Judges. Federal agents. Businessmen.”
“Why give it to me?”
“Because Charles is dead.”
Damen froze.
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“How?”
“Murdered.”
“By whom?”
“I don’t know.”
Viktor looked genuinely afraid for the first time.
“Someone is cleaning the network.”
Damen lowered the gun slightly.
“Why?”
“Because Margaret’s ledger resurfaced.”
A noise crackled in Damen’s earpiece.
Marcus.
“Boss, movement.”
Damen turned.
Too late.
The church windows exploded inward.
Gunfire tore through the pews.
Damen dropped behind stone.
Viktor disappeared behind the altar.
Outside, Marcus’s teams engaged the attackers.
Damen fired toward the balcony.
Then he heard tires scream outside.
“Sera.”
He ran.
The surveillance van was burning.
Marcus lay on the pavement, wounded in the shoulder.
Damen reached the SUV.
The rear door stood open.
Empty.
His heart stopped.
“SERA!”
No answer.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
Damen answered.
A digitally altered voice spoke.
“We have your wife.”
Everything inside him went cold.
“What do you want?”
“Viktor Voss.”
Damen turned toward the church.
Flames had begun climbing the old wooden doors.
The voice continued.
“Bring us your father before midnight tomorrow.”
“And if I don’t?”
A pause.
Then Sera’s voice came faintly through the phone.
May you like
“Damen—”
The line went dead.
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