Chapter 15 - The Final Shadow
The gunman lying on the gravel was my younger brother.
My younger half-brother Austin, who vanished five years ago.
We believed Austin died in an overseas accident back then.
He wasn't dead at all.
He was the primary operative running Blackwood Network.
Austin looked up at me with a blood-stained, wicked smile.
"Hello, big brother," Austin whispered in a raspy voice.
"Did you really think Margaret was smart enough to plan?"
"She was just my errand girl in Tennessee."
"I built the syndicate from Chicago five years ago."
"And now, I am taking back what is mine."
In the distance, police sirens wailed toward the highway.
State police cruisers pulled up, arresting my wounded brother.
They dragged Austin away in heavy iron chains.
I drove home safely, holding Emma and baby Clara tight.
Two weeks passed peacefully in our coastal sanctuary.
Austin and Margaret were held in maximum security prison.
The Blackwood Network was completely dismantled by FBI.
Every corrupt official was arrested across the nation.
Our family was finally, completely safe from danger.
Or so we believed on that quiet spring evening.
Tonight was a warm, quiet Sunday near the ocean.
Emma and I sat on the front porch drinking tea.
Clara was fast asleep in her wooden crib inside.
The sunset painted the sky in shades pink gold.
A mail courier van pulled up to our driveway.
The driver stepped out, holding a brown paper package.
"Delivery for Mr. Ethan Brooks," the driver called.
I walked down the porch steps, signing digital pad.
"Thank you," I said, taking the small box.
The cardboard package had no return address listed.
I walked back to the wooden porch table carefully.
I pulled open the brown sealing tape with fingers.
Inside the box lay a sleek silver flash drive.
Beside the drive rested a single old photograph document.
I picked up the photograph with careful, trembling fingers.
The image showed an old medical facility deep in mountains.
Standing in front of the building was a tall man.
A man wearing an immaculate, expensive dark tailored suit.
He held a newborn baby boy in his arms smiling.
My blood ran completely ice cold in a single second.
The man in the photo was my father.
The father I believed died fifteen years ago today.
My father hadn't died of a heart attack at all.
He was alive and standing outside the secret facility.
I flipped the photograph over to read the back side.
A message was written in neat, elegant handwriting text:
"Hello, my brave son Ethan."
"Margaret and Austin were executing my instructions all along."
"I created the trust fund to test your strength."
"You passed the test, my brilliant boy."
"Now it is time for you to take over."
"I am waiting for you at the mountain facility."
Pure, paralyzing, freezing terror flooded my entire body.
My own father was the ultimate mastermind behind everything.
A floorboard creaked softly on the porch outside.
Slow, heavy, deliberate footsteps approached our front door.
The electronic deadbolt lock chimed with a soft beep.
The keycard reader flashed green on the door frame.
Whoever was outside held a master digital keycard.
The heavy oak front door swung open slowly inside.
A tall man stepped into the dimly lit hallway.
He wore an immaculate, expensive dark tailored suit.
His silver hair was styled neatly, his eyes cold.
His facial features were identical to mine in mirror.
It was my biological father, standing right before us.
He looked at my raised firearm and smiled warmly.
A chilling, terrifying smile of pure paternal pride.
May you like
"Lower the gun, Ethan," my father whispered softly.
"The most shocking part is yet to come. Comment 'yes' so I can drop Part Two immediately!"
