Chapter 12 - The Ghost of the Tunnel
We sped back to the coastal house. Daniel was waiting on the porch, a heavy tactical rifle already resting against his thigh.
"Someone was tailing us at the market,"
Caleb reported the second we stepped out of the car.
"Tall. Gray raincoat. Military posture."
Daniel’s jaw clenched aggressively.
"Did he engage?"
Daniel asked.
"No. Just watched,"
I said, shivering despite the warm afternoon sun.
"It was intimidation."
Caleb paused, his brow furrowed in deep, agonizing thought.
"Daniel... the way he tapped his cap. Two fingers, sharp and quick."
"What about it?"
Daniel demanded.
"When Richard Whitlock held me in that warehouse,"
Caleb whispered, the horrific memories flooding back.
"He had a personal fixer. An ex-mercenary named Vance. He always saluted Richard like that before he beat me."
The air on the porch turned to absolute ice.
"Vance died in the tunnel collapse with Richard,"
Daniel stated, his voice tight.
"Unless,"
May you like
I breathed out, my blood running cold.
"Unless Richard didn't die in the tunnel."
