Chapter 16 - Grant’s Gambit
The secure audio link crackled with heavy static before the compressed, gravelly voice of my father filtered through the warehouse speakers.
"Claire," Grant Bennett’s voice sounded older, thinner, and utterly drained of the arrogant swagger that had defined every interaction we had shared over the last decade. "I know you're listening. And I know you have the vault ledgers."
I stepped up to the terminal console, my finger hovering over the transmission key. "You traded my home, my safety, and my life to launder black-budget money for a treasonous defense syndicate, Dad. You don't get to call for sympathy."
A heavy sigh echoed through the speaker. "I didn't have a choice, Claire. Apex didn't just ask for cooperation—they made it very clear what happens to people who ask too many questions about Project Chimera. When I tried to back out of the real estate trust agreement last year, they made threats against your mother’s pension... against your life."
"Don't play the victim," I snapped back, my voice hard as iron. "You signed the transfer authorizations. You used my Tahoe villa as a domestic shell anchor. You built your comfortable retirement on treason."
"I'm not trying to excuse what I did," Grant said, his voice cracking slightly with genuine remorse. "I was a coward. I let ambition and fear cloud my judgment. But right now, what you think of me doesn't matter. Federal marshals aren't just transferring me to a standard holding facility—Apex has compromised the federal transport detail. The men taking me aren't marshals."
The words hit the room like a physical blow.
"Where are they taking you?" I demanded, leaning over the console.
"An off-grid blacksite facility near Hawthorne," Grant replied hurriedly, the sound of heavy metal doors clanging in the background of his transmission. "Harrington isn't just trying to recover the flash drive. He’s using me as leverage to force you into a trade. If you want the truth about Marcus Vance... if you want to know what really happened at the Colorado canyon facility... you come to Hawthorne."
The transmission abruptly cut off with a sharp click, leaving only a low, steady hum echoing through the warehouse speakers.
I stood motionless for a moment, staring at the flashing red terminal light.
"It's a trap," Chloe said, turning away from the window with wide, alarmed eyes. "Your father is bait. Harrington knows we have the drive, and he knows we won't ignore information about Marcus."
"I know it's a trap," I said, reaching down to pick up my rifle and check the bolt-carrier group with a practiced, rhythmic snap. "But it's also our only direct line to the blacksite facility."
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"Claire, you can't walk right into an Apex black-site alone," Ethan’s voice cut in over the comms link from San Diego. "Satellite thermal imaging of the Hawthorne sector shows a reinforced compound with heavy perimeter patrols, automated surveillance grids, and at least two squads of private tactical operators."
"I'm not going alone," I said, looking over at Chloe, who had already picked up her sidearm from the workbench and tucked it securely into her holster. "We're going to finish what Marcus started."
