Chapter 9 - Harbor Seven Burns
Rain hammered Harbor Seven when Claire arrived.
Police lights flashed across the rusted warehouses.
Rebecca had called Briggs despite Claire’s objections.
This time Claire was grateful.
Smoke rose from Building C.
“They’re burning the records,” Rebecca shouted.
Claire ran toward the underground entrance.
Briggs grabbed her.
“You’re not going down there.”
“My brother-in-law is inside.”
“And possibly armed men.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”
An explosion shook the ground.
Flames burst through a ventilation shaft.
Briggs swore.
Fire crews moved in.
Then Mark appeared through the rain.
“Claire!”
She turned.
“What are you doing here?”
“Same thing you are.”
“No.”
“I’m finding Jonathan.”
They ran toward a secondary service entrance shown on the old property map.
Samuel had given Claire the plans.
A tunnel ran from the waterfront pump station to the underground records room.
They found the door half open.
Inside, smoke crawled along the ceiling.
“Jonathan!”
No answer.
They moved deeper.
Claire coughed into her sleeve.
Ahead, voices echoed.
“Move the boxes!”
“Forget the paper. Get the drives!”
Claire and Mark hid behind a concrete wall.
Three men loaded cases onto a cart.
A fourth man stood nearby.
Tall.
Silver hair.
Tailored raincoat.
Victor Lang.
Claire had seen him on magazine covers.
In person he looked less like a billionaire and more like a man who had never been told no.
Jonathan knelt beside him.
Blood ran from Jonathan’s forehead.
Lang held a gun.
“You should have stayed dead,” Lang said.
Jonathan laughed weakly.
“You first.”
Lang raised the weapon.
Claire stepped out.
“Victor.”
Mark whispered, “Claire, no.”
Lang turned.
Recognition flickered.
“Mrs. Ashford.”
“Technically.”
Lang smiled.
“You’ve caused enormous inconvenience.”
Claire kept walking.
“Funny. Your friends said the same thing.”
“Which friends?”
“The financial crimes division.”
His smile faded slightly.
Claire held up her phone.
“And every file from that underground room is already backed up.”
That was a lie.
Lang studied her.
“You’re bluffing.”
Claire smiled.
“You should know better than to challenge a restructuring consultant about redundancy.”
Jonathan glanced at her.
He understood.
Play along.
Lang lowered the gun slightly.
“What do you want?”
“Jonathan.”
“And?”
“You leave Harbor Seven.”
Lang laughed.
“You think you own this property?”
“No.”
Claire took another step.
“But you can’t buy it without me.”
His expression hardened.
“The trust can be challenged.”
“Not after tonight.”
“You’re accused of financial misconduct.”
“Manufactured misconduct.”
“Hard to prove.”
Claire smiled.
“Not anymore.”
Lang frowned.
Claire pressed PLAY on her phone.
George Ashford’s recorded voice filled the tunnel.
Victor knows about the contamination.
Victor authorized payments.
Victor told me the subcontractor had become a liability.
Lang’s face changed.
He fired.
Mark tackled Claire.
The bullet struck concrete.
Chaos exploded.
Jonathan lunged at Lang.
The gun skidded across the floor.
One of Lang’s guards ran toward Claire.
Mark intercepted him.
They crashed into shelving.
Claire grabbed the gun.
Her hands shook violently.
“STOP!”
Everyone froze.
Lang smiled.
“You won’t shoot.”
“No.”
Claire pointed the weapon toward the floor.
“But they might.”
Detective Briggs and six officers emerged from the smoke behind them.
“Hands where I can see them!”
Lang’s guards dropped their weapons.
Lang did not move.
Jonathan leaned against the wall, bleeding.
Briggs cuffed Victor Lang.
Claire lowered the gun.
For one second, relief washed through her.
Then Jonathan shouted:
“Fire!”
Flames rolled into the chamber.
Everyone ran.
Claire reached the tunnel entrance when a steel beam crashed from the ceiling.
Mark shoved her forward.
The beam came down between them.
“MARK!”
Smoke swallowed him.
Claire tried to climb over the wreckage.
Briggs grabbed her.
“Claire!”
“He’s in there!”
“You can’t go back.”
She fought him.
“MARK!”
Through the smoke, she saw movement.
Mark stumbled toward the beam.
Then the ceiling collapsed behind him.
Claire screamed.
Firefighters pulled her outside.
She stood in the rain, shaking, watching flames tear through the property.
Minutes passed.
Then ten.
Then twenty.
Jonathan sat in an ambulance with his head bandaged.
Rebecca held Claire’s shoulders.
Nobody said what they were thinking.
Finally, a firefighter emerged from the smoke.
Alone.
Claire stopped breathing.
He removed his mask.
“We found someone.”
Claire ran toward him.
“Is he alive?”
The firefighter hesitated.
“They’re bringing him out.”
A stretcher appeared through the rain.
Claire could not see the face beneath the oxygen mask.
She pushed through the paramedics.
“Mark!”
The patient’s hand moved.
Claire grabbed it.
His fingers closed weakly around hers.
She almost collapsed.
Then Mark opened his eyes.
“Claire.”
“I’m here.”
He tried to speak.
“Jonathan…”
“He’s safe.”
Mark shook his head.
“No.”
Claire leaned closer.
“There’s another person underground.”
Her stomach dropped.
“Who?”
Mark coughed.
“A woman.”
Claire looked toward Jonathan.
He stared back in confusion.
Mark whispered:
“She said she’s your mother.”
May you like
Claire’s entire body went cold.
Her mother had been dead for seventeen years.
