Chapter 3 - Operation Lockdown
Back at the clinic, Detective Brenner was issuing rapid-fire orders into her radio.
“All units, listen up. We are moving up the timeline. Suspect Gero von Berg is currently at the Metropole restaurant downtown. We have probable cause for arrest under felony domestic abuse charges, aggravated assault of a pregnant individual, and intimidation of a witness. I want a perimeter established immediately. No exits unguarded.”
Thomas Brand stood beside Dr. Richter’s desk, buttoning up a heavy wool coat over his broad shoulders. His phone was pressed to his ear as he spoke in German to an old military contact—a retired intelligence specialist with deep ties to international financial tracking.
“Find every offshore account, shell corporation, and hidden asset registered under Gero von Berg or his corporate fronts,” Thomas commanded in a low, steely voice. “I want his liquidity frozen before the dessert course is served. If he tries to wire a single cent out of the country, I want it flagged and intercepted.”
“Understood, Thomas,” the voice crackled through the speaker. “Give me twenty minutes.”
Beate watched her father from the exam table, her hands resting protectively over her rounding stomach. The terror that had paralyzed her for eighteen months was slowly being replaced by an unfamiliar, fierce spark of survival. For the first time, she wasn't alone. She had her father’s unyielding military precision, Detective Brenner’s professional dedication, and the undeniable digital truth recorded on the nursery camera.
“Papa,” Beate said softly, her voice steadying. “When they arrest him... what happens to our home? All my personal documents, my passport, my medical records—they’re locked in his private wall safe in the study. If he gets bail, or if his lawyers manage to stall, he will destroy everything.”
Thomas walked over, kneeling beside her chair and placing a strong, calloused hand over her trembling fingers. His eyes, usually severe and unreadable, burned with a fierce paternal devotion.
“Listen to me, Beate,” Thomas said firmly. “Nothing inside that house matters except you and your baby. But your father never leaves an enemy stronghold unsearched. While Detective Brenner secures his public arrest, I am going to pay a little visit to our residence to retrieve what belongs to you.”
“Mr. Brand, you cannot break into that house,” Detective Brenner interjected, finishing her radio call and stepping forward. “That is illegal search and seizure. Any evidence you pull from his safe without a warrant could be thrown out in court.”
Thomas stood up to his full height, towering over the detective with the cold authority of a commander who had survived battlefields far more brutal than a corporate boardroom.
“Detective, I am not breaking in,” Thomas replied with a chilling, humorless smile. “As Beate’s father and legal representative, I have a key to the emergency suite. And as for the safe? Gero was always arrogant enough to use his military service number as the master combination—the same number he bragged about on his resume. Men like Gero never change their security codes because they believe their own brilliance makes them immune to theft.”
Detective Brenner stared at him for a long moment, realizing that arguing with a trained Bundeswehr veteran on a mission was an exercise in futility. She sighed, rubbing her temples.
May you like
“Just don't break anything, Mr. Brand. And for God's sake, don't touch him if you cross paths with him before my backup arrives.”
Thomas didn't answer. He simply turned toward the exit, his footsteps echoing like marching boots against the linoleum floor.
