Chapter 20 - open horizon
The heavy rumble of the yacht's diesel engines seemed to grow louder as the red light on Arthur's remote flashed in rhythmic, terrifying pulses.
"Arthur, please," I pleaded, taking two slow steps onto the wooden dock despite Vance's warning gesture. "Look at me. Look at Catherine. We are your sisters. Our father built that foundation to protect us, not to destroy us."
Arthur looked at me, a brief, fleeting flicker of recognition and regret passing across his pale face. "Father was weak, Clara. He thought honor could protect a family in the modern world. But honor doesn't stop men with guns. Honor doesn't buy silence."
"Neither does fear," Catherine said, stepping up right beside me, holding her rose gold signet ring high in her hand so the floodlights caught the brilliant reflection of the falcon crest. "The master key isn't on your server, Arthur. Our mother hid the true encryption protocol inside the original charter safe thirty years ago. Your remote is useless."
Arthur froze, staring at the rose gold signet in Catherine's hand as if he were looking at a ghost returned from the grave to pass judgment upon him. His jaw trembled, and for a split second, the red light on his detonator paused its flashing sequence.
Before he could speak, a sharp, muffled crack echoed from the fog-shrouded deck of the black yacht.
Arthur's body jerked violently. A single red stain bloomed across the center of his white shirt. The silver remote slipping from his paralyzed fingers, clattering onto the timber dock before bouncing into the dark, swirling water below.
"Sniper!" Vance yelled, lunging forward to pull Catherine and me behind the safety of a heavy wooden shipping crate.
More suppressed gunshots tore through the timber walls of the boathouse as the black yacht instantly cast off its mooring lines, its powerful engines roaring to life as it backed away from the dock into the deep, impenetrable sea fog.
By the time the police cleared the dock, Arthur lay still on the wooden planks, his dark eyes staring blankly up at the misty night sky. The steel briefcase locked to his wrist had been severed at the chain, its contents gone.
Two hours later, as the first grey light of dawn broke over the Atlantic, Catherine and I stood at the edge of the cliff overlooking the vast, empty ocean. The black yacht had vanished completely into international waters, leaving no trace behind.
Sterling walked up behind us, carrying a fresh coat for each of us. "The federal authorities have issued an international arrest warrant for the directors of the Geneva syndicate, Miss Clara. But the offshore accounts have already been wiped clean."
May you like
I looked down at the rose gold signet ring resting securely on Catherine's finger, then out toward the endless, open horizon where the grey sky met the dark water.
The war for our family's past was finally over—but looking at the deep, silent ocean stretching out before us, I knew that the mystery of who really pulled the trigger from the fog had only just begun.
