The first thing I noticed when I walked into the house was the silence. It wasn’t a calm kind of silence.

“Elena,” Victor said, his voice a smooth, cultured baritone that carried a lethal, venomous edge. “Did you really think a few internet firewalls and an Illinois address could hide you from me for seven years?”

Elena backed away toward the yacht’s helm station, her hand hovering over her holstered weapon, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “Victor. Let’s make a deal. The drive is right here. Forty million. We split it fifty-fifty, and I leave the hemisphere forever.”

Victor chuckled—a dry, humorless sound. He turned his cold, calculating gaze toward me.

“And who is this?” Victor asked, tilting his head. “Ah. The suburban husband. The logistics clerk. Jack Mercer, isn't it?”

I stood my ground, my fingers gripping the aluminum drive in my pocket. “Let’s get one thing straight, Vance. I don't give a damn about your forty million dollars. I care about my children.”

Victor smiled thinly. “A devoted father. How quaint. Do you know why I let your wife live in peace for six years, Jack?”

Elena froze, her eyes widening. “What are you talking about?”

“I found you forty-eight hours after you crossed into Chicago, my dear,” Victor said smoothly, taking a slow step toward her. “I let you build your pathetic little domestic fantasy. I let you marry this boring, honest man. I let you bear his children. Why? Because I knew that as long as you were playing house, my forty million dollars was safely accumulating interest in those encrypted wallets. You did all the laundering work for me. You were my unpaid banker.”

Elena’s face drained of all color. “You… you knew the whole time?”

“Of course I did,” Victor sneered. “Did you truly believe you were smarter than me? You were never an operative, Elena. You were a thief. And thieves always get sloppy when they think they're comfortable.”

Victor turned back to me, extending a black leather-gloved hand. “Give me the drive, Jack. Do that, and I will let you walk off this boat alive. You can go back to your children, take whatever modest savings you have, and move to another state. I have no quarrel with you or your bastards.”

“He’s lying, Jack!” Elena screamed, drawing her Glock. “He won’t leave witnesses! Shoot him!”

Before Elena could raise her barrel, Victor’s lead enforcer raised a suppressed submachine gun and fired two rapid shots.

Elena gasped. She stumbled back against the helm console, clutching her shoulder as blood bloomed across her dark sweater. Her gun clattered to the deck.

Victor didn't even flinch. He kept his hand outstretched toward me. “The drive, Jack. Now.”

I looked Victor straight in the eye. I didn't reach for the drive.

Instead, I raised my right hand to my collar, tapped the microphone twice, and whispered:

“Drop flat.”

In the next fraction of a second, the night exploded into chaos.

High-caliber sniper rounds shattered the forward salon windows with deafening cracks. The lead enforcer standing beside Victor dropped instantly, a red spray misting against the wall.

“Federal Agents! Nobody move!”

Dozens of flashbang grenades detonated across the outer deck, turning the cabin into an ear-splitting tempest of blinding white light and concussive shockwaves.