Chapter 48 - The Midnight Injunction
Sterling didn't curse. Men who operated at his level did not yell; they recalculated costs. He took a single step back, his eyes narrowing until they resembled two chips of polished slate behind his glasses.
"This changes the timeline," Sterling said, his voice dropping an octave. "It does not change the outcome, Jared. The federal reserve charter expires at midnight on New Year’s Eve. Arthur kept that secret well, but my lobbyist sits on the parliamentary committee that reviews dormant defence assets. In seven days, that classification lapses automatically. When it does, no military convoy will stand between my consortium and this ground."
"In seven days," Jared replied, "my attorney will have Marcus’s full sworn deposition entered into the Supreme Court of Justice records. By Tuesday, your Toronto syndicate will be answering subpoenas regarding wire fraud, witness tampering, and corporate espionage."
Sterling gave a brief, mocking chuckle as he backed toward the idling aircraft. "A mechanic with a suburban attorney thinking he can subpoena Bay Street. Enjoy your small victory, Jared. Hug your children tightly. The cold sets in early up here, and power outages can be so terribly unpredictable in the winter."
The guards retreated in formation, eyes locked on Jared until they reached the skid steps. The door slid shut with a sharp mechanical thud. The turbines rose to a deafening shriek, the rotor blades biting into the freezing December air as the black machine lifted off, pivoting sharply north before rocketing over the pines, leaving behind only the sulfurous stink of burnt jet fuel and the settling dust.
Jared didn't watch it disappear. He turned instantly and jogged to the side door of the shop.
"Noah! Ellie! Code word: Thomas and Grace!"
The heavy steel bolt inside slid back with a clunk. Noah cracked the door open an inch, saw his father’s face, and threw it wide. Ellie ran forward, wrapping her arms around Jared’s knee, trembling.
"Daddy, the noise was so loud," she cried softly.
"I know, baby. I know," Jared said, lifting her into his arms while resting a hand on Noah’s head. "The noise is gone. But we aren't staying here tonight."
Inside the shop, the phone was ringing again. Jared carried Ellie over to the desk, picking up the receiver while Noah stood guard at the interior door like a miniature soldier.
"Jared?" Miller's voice was nearly hysterical. "Where are you? Did they land?"
"They just left," Jared said, setting Ellie on the desk and handing her a clean notepad and a pencil. "Sterling was here in person, Miller. He knows about the defence corridor. He knows the federal protection lapses at midnight on New Year's Eve."
"It's worse than that," Miller said, his breathing ragged over the line. "Melissa just filed an emergency petition for temporary custody of Noah and Ellie."
Jared froze. The air left his lungs as if he had taken a sledgehammer directly to the sternum. "She did *what*?"
"She went to family court in Newmarket an hour ago," Miller explained, his voice shaking with fury. "She brought an affidavit signed by an independent child psychologist claiming that Marcus’s violent home invasion—combined with the gunfire and your shop's industrial hazards—makes your household an unfit and dangerous environment for the children. She’s claiming you are using the children as human shields in a high-stakes real estate dispute."
"She brought Marcus into our lives!" Jared roared, his knuckles turning pure white as he gripped the desk edge. "She stood in my dining room while he held a gun to my throat! She let him feed cat food to her niece and nephew on Christmas morning!"
"The family court judge doesn't know that yet, Jared," Miller said desperately. "Melissa presented forged text messages showing that Marcus was acting under *your* coercion to stage an insurance fraud scheme. Sterling’s legal team backed her with three senior partners from Osler. The judge issued an *ex parte* interim protective order. Child services has been dispatched with an Ontario Provincial Police escort to remove Noah and Ellie from your custody pending a full hearing on January third."
Jared looked down at his daughter. Ellie was drawing a picture of their house—four walls, a pitched roof, and two stick figures standing outside beside a blue wrecker truck.
"How long do I have before the cruisers get here?" Jared asked, his voice deathly cold.
May you like
"Twenty minutes," Miller said. "Jared... do not run. If you run, it's parental abduction. They will put out an Amber Alert. They will tear your life to pieces."
"I’m not running, Miller," Jared whispered, looking toward the old boxcar out in the weeds. "I’m going to war."
