Chapter 7 - The Reckoning
In an abandoned boat repair warehouse on the docks of Brooklyn, the rain beat heavily against the corrugated tin roof.
Richard Thompson was tied securely to a wooden chair in the center of the concrete floor, his nose bloodied and his expensive suit torn. Beside him, Susan sat bound to a second chair, sobbing uncontrollably.
Four armed enforcers stood in the shadows.
Rory walked slowly out of the darkness, carrying a heavy iron briefcase.
He set the case on a metal workbench in front of Richard, popping the brass latches open. Inside lay thick stacks of legal deeds, property transfers, and bank asset releases.
"Rory! Please!" Richard begged, his voice high and desperate. "We can sign everything back over! Every dollar! We’ll leave the country! You’ll never see us again!"
Rory didn't answer. He took a fountain pen from his breast pocket and tossed it onto the briefcase.
"Sign," Rory said flatly.
Richard didn't hesitate. With trembling hands, he signed his name across thirty different legal documents, transferring every account, property, and offshore holding back into the Starks family trust.
When the last page was signed, Frank collected the papers and verified the signatures.
"It's all legitimate, boss," Frank confirmed. "The estate is fully secured."
Richard looked up, tears running down his bruised face. "Are... are you going to kill us?"
Rory looked at his brother-in-law with pure, unadulterated contempt.
"Death is too quick for what you did to my children," Rory said calmly.
He gestured to Frank.
"The FBI has been investigating Apex Horizon for money laundering for six months," Rory revealed. "An anonymous tipster just provided them with forty gigabytes of encrypted evidence—including video recordings of Susan triggering an illegal acoustic weapon against two minors."
The heavy double doors of the warehouse blew open!
Federal agents in tactical gear flooded the building, weapons raised, red laser sights painting the walls!
"FBI! Don't move! Hands in the air!"
Rory casually raised his hands, stepping away from the chairs as the agents tackled Richard and Susan to the ground, snapping steel handcuffs onto their wrists.
As the federal agents dragged the screaming couple toward the waiting armored vans, the lead FBI agent walked up to Rory, looking at him carefully.
May you like
"Mr. Starks," the agent said. "We received the drive. You're clean on this. But your relatives are going away for a very long time."
"Make sure they do, Agent," Rory said softly, stepping out into the night rain.
