Chapter 19 - The Coordinates
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I stared at the glowing screen of my phone.
Beneath the text message was a GPS coordinate and an address. It was a secluded, short-term rental cabin in the heavily wooded mountains two hours north of the city. Vale was lying low, waiting for his final payment from Eleanor Caldwell before likely fleeing the country.
I locked the phone and slipped it back into my pocket.
I looked at Nora. She was watching a cooking show on the hospital TV, her bruised face finally looking peaceful.
I had promised her I wouldn't become the monster. I promised I wouldn't disappear into the bloody shadows of my past. I fully intended to keep that promise. I wasn't going to kill Martin Vale.
But I was going to ensure he never raised a hand to a young girl ever again.
“Nora,” I said softly.
She turned her head to look at me.
“I need to step out for a few hours tonight. Maya is going to come sit with you. I have to go to the police precinct to sign some affidavits for Detective Bell.”
It was a lie, but a necessary one.
Nora picked up her board. Are you coming back before I fall asleep?
“I’ll be back before midnight,” I promised, kissing her forehead gently.
I walked out of the hospital, leaving the bright, sterile lights behind. I got into my truck and drove to a secure storage facility on the edge of the city. Inside a climate-controlled locker sat a heavy, dust-covered titanium lockbox.
I punched in a twelve-digit code. The hydraulic hinges hissed open.
Inside rested the tools of the Phantom Commander. Matte black tactical gear, zip ties, a suppressed Sig Sauer P226, and a pair of heavy, carbon-fiber reinforced combat gloves.
I left the gun in the box. I didn't need it.
I took the gloves.
Two hours later, I parked my truck a mile down the dirt road from Vale’s cabin. I moved through the dense woods in total silence, the muscle memory of a thousand covert operations taking over my body.
Vale was sitting at the kitchen table inside the cabin, drinking a beer and counting a stack of hundred-dollar bills.
He never heard the glass shatter. He never saw me coming.
May you like
By the time I left the cabin thirty minutes later, Martin Vale was unconscious, securely zip-tied to a heavy oak chair, and a neat stack of printed financial evidence tying him directly to Eleanor Caldwell was stapled to his chest. I used his own burner phone to anonymously tip off Detective Bell.
Vale’s right arm was broken in three places. He wouldn't be throwing punches for a very, very long time.
