Chapter 12 - The Desertion
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By 10:45 AM, Marcus stood in the basement garage of the fortieth-floor penthouse building.
He was loading two heavy black duffel bags into the trunk of his personal SUV when a shadowed figure stepped out from behind a concrete pillar.
Marcus reached instantly for his sidearm.
"Easy, Marcus," a calm, familiar voice called out.
Julian Vance stepped into the dim fluorescent light, his hands raised slightly, flanked by two federal agents in plain clothes.
"Vance," Marcus growled, keeping his hand on his holster. "You working for the feds now?"
"I'm working for justice, Marcus," Julian said softly. "Which is something you used to care about before Paxton put you on his payroll."
Marcus stared at the disgraced former prosecutor, then lowered his hand from his gun. He let out a long, exhausted sigh.
"He's done, Vance," Marcus said, his voice dropping into a flat, tired register. "The whole thing is gone. There's nothing left upstairs except a ghost and a man who doesn't know he's dead."
"Where is Paxton now?" one of the federal agents asked.
"He went back up to the penthouse," Marcus said, tossing his car keys into the air and catching them. "He thinks he's waiting for Lennox to come back and save him."
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Julian looked at his watch.
"She’s coming back," Julian said quietly. "But not to save him."
