Chapter 7 - The Traitor at Gabriel’s TableGabriel locked down the estate.
Nobody left.
Nobody entered.
Forty-eight members of the Falcone organization remained inside Beacon Hill when the iron gates closed.
Some had served Gabriel for decades.
Others were relatives by blood.
Each surrendered a weapon, telephone, and electronic device.
No one protested.
They understood what suspicion meant inside the Falcone family.
Clara hated the atmosphere immediately.
Men who had celebrated Dante’s recovery days earlier now stood beneath armed supervision inside the ballroom.
Gabriel occupied the center of the room.
He appeared calm.
Clara knew him well enough to understand that calm was more dangerous than rage.
“Someone inside this house entered Miss Hayes’s bedroom twice.”
No person moved.
“Someone provided Elias Voss with access toward my internal security network.”
Gabriel slowly examined every face.
“I will ask once.”
Silence.
“Who?”
Nothing.
Dante sat inside a chair near Clara.
His body had recovered from most of the sedative exposure, but Dr. Aris had forbidden unnecessary walking.
Dante had ignored him until Clara threatened to physically remove his cane.
He was therefore seated.
Unhappily.
Matteo stood beside Gabriel.
The security chief had personally reviewed access logs.
Nothing.
Every electronic entry had been erased.
Then Clara remembered the first photograph.
It had been placed upon her nursing diploma.
Not simply inside her room.
Upon something personal.
Whoever entered had known exactly where to find it.
She whispered toward Dante.
“This person knows me.”
He looked.
“What?”
“They did not search the room.”
Dante understood.
Clara stood.
Gabriel watched as she walked slowly among the assembled people.
House staff.
Drivers.
Soldiers.
Security technicians.
Cooks.
One elderly housekeeper named Rosa had known Clara since the first night she entered Beacon Hill.
Rosa cried when Dante spoke his first word.
Clara trusted her.
Then she saw a man near the back.
Nicholas Caruso.
Gabriel’s logistics officer.
Forty-three.
Married.
Two children.
Quiet.
Clara remembered him bringing medical supplies toward Dante’s rehabilitation wing.
He always knew where her office was.
But something else bothered her.
His right hand.
A faint adhesive mark crossed his wrist.
Recent hospital identification band.
Clara stopped.
“When were you inside a hospital?”
Nicholas looked surprised.
“What?”
“Your wrist.”
Everyone looked.
Nicholas covered it instinctively.
Gabriel’s face changed.
“My wife had surgery.”
“When?”
“Monday.”
“Which hospital?” Clara asked.
Nicholas hesitated.
Too long.
Matteo moved.
Nicholas pulled a small pistol from beneath his jacket.
Dante shouted.
Gabriel’s gun appeared first.
Nobody fired.
Nicholas pressed the weapon beneath his own chin.
“Stay back.”
Clara froze.
Gabriel’s voice became ice.
“Put it down.”
“I cannot.”
“You brought a weapon into my home after surrender was ordered.”
“I had no choice.”
Gabriel almost laughed.
“Every traitor says that.”
Nicholas began crying.
Clara saw it.
Not guilt.
Terror.
“Who does Voss have?”
Nicholas stared toward her.
Gabriel turned.
Clara continued.
“Your wife?”
Nicholas’s shoulders broke.
“My daughter.”
The gun shook.
“Her name is Sofia.”
Gabriel knew her.
Everyone did.
Sofia Caruso was 9 years old.
She had attended the ballroom celebration.
She had given Clara a small handmade card congratulating Dante.
Gabriel lowered his pistol slightly.
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
Nicholas sobbed.
“She has leukemia.”
Clara remembered now.
Sofia had been undergoing treatment privately.
“Voss Biomedical,” she whispered.
Nicholas nodded.
“Six months.”
He explained.
Sofia entered a specialized oncology trial after standard treatment failed.
The results were encouraging.
Then Voss’s people contacted Nicholas.
They had discovered who he worked for.
At first, they requested harmless information.
Guard schedules.
Vehicle movements.
Nothing that appeared capable of hurting anyone.
Then the requests increased.
Security passwords.
Private-floor access.
Clara’s schedule.
“They said if I refused, Sofia would be removed from the trial.”
Gabriel stared.
“You chose to betray my family rather than tell me.”
“I was ashamed.”
“You should have been afraid.”
Nicholas pressed the gun harder beneath his chin.
“I am.”
Clara approached.
“Put the weapon down.”
“No.”
“Sofia needs her father.”
“They will kill her.”
“Not if we find her.”
“You cannot.”
Clara continued walking.
Dante called her name quietly.
She ignored him.
“Voss wants us to believe every person can be controlled by fear.”
Nicholas shook.
“He was right about me.”
“He was right that you were afraid.”
She stopped approximately 6 feet away.
“That is not the same thing.”
Gabriel looked toward Clara.
Nicholas cried silently.
“I gave them the security codes.”
“Yes.”
“I let them inside your room.”
“Yes.”
“They told me nobody would hurt you.”
Clara’s expression hardened.
“People always say that when they need permission to do something terrible.”
Nicholas lowered his eyes.
“Please.”
“Put the gun down.”
Slowly, the weapon moved away from his chin.
Matteo crossed the distance and took it.
Nicholas collapsed toward his knees.
Gabriel approached.
His face contained no mercy.
Dante stood painfully.
“Gabriel.”
The older brother stopped.
Clara knew exactly what was about to happen.
She stepped between them.
“No.”
Gabriel stared.
“He endangered you.”
“Yes.”
“He endangered Dante.”
“Yes.”
“He opened my home toward an enemy.”
“I know.”
“Then move.”
Clara did not.
“You asked me what should happen toward Gable.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened.
“This is different.”
“Why?”
“Because Nicholas belongs toward me.”
“That makes it worse, not easier.”
Nicholas remained upon the floor.
Clara looked toward Gabriel.
“If you kill every person Voss frightens into obedience, you are doing his work for him.”
Gabriel’s eyes became cold.
“He betrayed us.”
“And now he can help us.”
Silence filled the ballroom.
Dante moved beside Clara.
“She's right.”
Gabriel looked toward his brother.
Dante continued.
“Voss believes fear makes loyalty meaningless.”
He glanced toward Nicholas.
“Prove him wrong.”
Gabriel remained silent for a long time.
Then he looked toward Nicholas.
“Where is Sofia?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you know?”
Nicholas breathed unevenly.
“They contact me through an encrypted phone.”
“Where?”
“My car.”
Matteo immediately sent men.
The device was retrieved 7 minutes later.
Gabriel’s technicians copied everything before Voss could remotely erase it.
Most messages were untraceable.
One was not.
A photograph of Sofia had been sent the previous night.
Behind her was a window.
Through it, a bridge was visible.
Gabriel’s intelligence team identified the location.
Portsmouth, New Hampshire.
A private pediatric research center.
Owned by Voss Biomedical.
The Falcones moved before dawn.
This time Clara remained at Beacon Hill.
Not because Dante ordered her.
Because Sofia required a pediatric oncology specialist more than a critical-care nurse.
Dr. Aris coordinated a medical team.
Gabriel led the operation.
Nicholas went with him.
Dante remained beside Clara inside the command room.
Live video showed vehicles approaching the research center.
No gunfire.
No guards.
Another abandoned facility.
Clara’s stomach tightened.
“Again.”
Dante nodded.
“They want us to find it.”
Gabriel’s voice came through the communications system.
“Second floor clear.”
Then Matteo.
“Patients located.”
Clara leaned forward.
“How many?”
“Seven.”
Children.
All receiving Voss-funded experimental treatment.
Sofia was among them.
Alive.
Nicholas’s sob entered through the radio.
Clara closed her eyes.
Then another voice sounded.
“Gabriel, you need to see this.”
A hidden server room had been left unlocked.
Inside were thousands of medical files.
Political figures.
Judges.
Police commanders.
Business leaders.
Criminal organizations.
Voss’s private intelligence archive.
Dante stared toward the screen.
“He left it.”
“Why?”
Clara asked.
The answer arrived moments later.
Every server began deleting itself.
Gabriel’s technicians managed to copy less than 4%.
But inside that 4% was 1 document that changed everything.
SUBJECT 47 TRANSFER AUTHORIZATION.
Lena Ward would be moved at noon.
Destination listed only as HELIX.
No address.
No facility name.
Another document contained a flight number.
Private aircraft.
Departure from Hanscom Field.
Twelve twenty p.m.
Dante checked the time.
9:03 a.m.
Three hours.
Gabriel returned toward Boston immediately.
Sofia was transported toward Massachusetts General Hospital under Falcone protection.
Nicholas remained beside her.
His fate had not been decided.
Clara believed that was victory enough.
At 10:40 a.m., she prepared to leave Beacon Hill.
Dante entered her room.
He wore a black suit.
No tie.
A shoulder holster beneath the jacket.
The silver cane.
“You are not going toward the airport,” he said.
Clara continued packing medical equipment.
“Yes, I am.”
“Voss wants you there.”
“He has Lena.”
“That is exactly why.”
Clara closed the bag.
Dante stepped in front of her.
“I cannot lose you.”
The words stopped everything.
Clara looked upward.
Dante had never said them with fear before.
He took her hands.
“When I was trapped inside that bed, I had nothing to lose because everyone I loved believed I was already gone.”
His voice lowered.
“Then you came.”
Clara’s eyes filled.
“You gave me a future while I could not move a finger.”
He touched his forehead toward hers.
“I am not afraid of dying, Clara.”
She closed her eyes.
“I am afraid of surviving you.”
The words broke through every argument she had prepared.
She wrapped both arms around him.
Dante held her tightly.
For several seconds, the mafia war, Voss, Lena, and the entire world disappeared.
Then Clara pulled back.
“I have to go.”
Dante almost smiled.
“I knew you would say that.”
“And you are coming.”
“I knew you would say that too.”
He reached into his pocket.
Instead of a weapon, he removed a small velvet box.
Clara stared.
“Dante.”
“Not now.”
“What?”
“I am not proposing while we are preparing to chase a psychopath toward an airport.”
Despite everything, Clara laughed.
“Then why are you showing me that?”
“Because I need you to understand something.”
He opened it.
A simple diamond ring rested inside.
Elegant.
Not enormous.
Not designed to display Falcone wealth.
Designed for Clara.
“I bought this 3 months ago.”
Her breath caught.
“I kept waiting until I could walk toward you without the cane.”
“Dante—”
“Then I realized something.”
He closed the box.
“My life already spent too much time waiting.”
He placed it back inside his pocket.
“When this is finished, I will ask.”
Clara touched his face.
“And if I say no?”
Dante looked offended.
“You stood over me with a scalpel.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the closest thing toward a marriage proposal I have ever received.”
She kissed him.
Hard.
When they separated, Dante rested his forehead against hers.
“Come home alive.”
“You too.”
At 11:58 a.m., Falcone vehicles reached Hanscom Field.
The private Voss jet was already upon the runway.
Its engines had begun turning.
And through the small window near the rear of the aircraft, Clara saw a woman strike both palms against the glass.
Lena.
Alive.
The jet began moving.
Clara opened the vehicle door before it had completely stopped.
Dante shouted after her.
She ran toward the runway.
The aircraft accelerated.
Clara heard Gabriel’s men yelling.
Then Lena’s face disappeared from the window.
The jet moved faster.
Too fast.
There would be no stopping it.
Until 3 black armored vehicles suddenly crossed the opposite end of the runway.
They formed a solid wall.
The pilot braked.
Tires screamed.
The jet turned violently.
One wing nearly struck the pavement.
Clara stopped.
Gabriel stepped from the lead armored vehicle.
His pistol hung loosely inside his hand.
The aircraft came to rest less than 100 yards away.
Its door opened.
A man emerged.
Gray-haired.
Elegant.
Tall.
He wore no weapon.
Dr. Elias Voss smiled toward them.
Then he placed 1 hand behind Lena Ward’s neck and guided her down the stairs.
“Clara Hayes.”
May you like
His eyes found her immediately.
“At last.”
