Chapter 6 - The Enforcer’s Ledger
I caught Harrison at the top of the metal staircase leading to the mezzanine office.
He was scrambling across the linoleum floor of the makeshift office like a crab, clawing at a heavy oak desk as he tried to yank open the bottom drawer where he kept his emergency pistol.
I stepped up behind him, grabbed him by the collar of his expensive silk shirt, and hoisted him off the floor with one arm. I slammed him down hard against the glass-top desk, shattering the surface into a thousand glittering shards.
Harrison screamed, spitting blood from a split lip where he had caught the edge of the desk.
“Vance! Wait! Don't shoot! I can give you money! Millions! Offshore accounts in the Caymans! Anything you want!” he whimpered, his hands clawing uselessly at my wrists.
“I don't want your money, Harrison,” I said, pressing the cold muzzle of my pistol directly against the soft skin beneath his jawline. “I want names.”
“I’ll give you names! I’ll give you everyone! The entire Dallas distribution ring! The judges, the cops, the councilmen—!”
“Start with the man who hit my daughter,” I growled, applying downward pressure with the barrel until Harrison let out a high-pitched whine of agony.
“It wasn't me!” Harrison sobbed, his bladder letting go as a dark stain spread across the front of his trousers. “I swear to God it wasn't me! It was the enforcer—the guy you just shot! His name is Viktor! He panicked when Violet pulled out her phone to record us! He hit her with a heavy flashlight! I tried to stop him, Mason! I swear I tried!”
I stared into his eyes. I could smell his terror—the sour stench of adrenaline and absolute defeat. He wasn't lying about that part; men like Harrison only knew how to finance evil, never how to execute it themselves.
“The ledger,” I said. “Where is the master ledger for the syndicate’s real estate laundering?”
“Safe... safe on the cloud!” Harrison gasped, pointing a trembling finger toward a secure server tower humming in the corner of the office. “The master encryption key is on that flash drive plugged into the USB hub! It has every name, every wire transfer, every corrupt official in Dallas County!”
I reached out with my left hand, plucked the small black flash drive from the server port, and slid it into my tactical vest.
“Please, Mason... you got what you wanted! Let me go! We can make a deal—!”
“The only deal you’re going to make, Harrison,” I whispered into his ear, “is with the federal prosecutor who’s going to read your indictment while you rot in a supermax facility for the rest of your natural life.”
I reversed my pistol, bringing the heavy steel grip down hard across the side of Harrison’s temple.
His eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed limp onto the shattered glass of the desk, unconscious before he hit the floor.
I pulled out my encrypted satellite phone, dialed a direct secure line, and waited two rings.
“Vance,” a crisp, professional voice answered on the other end.
“Director Vance, this is Master Sergeant Mason Vance, retired,” I said into the receiver. “I’ve just secured the primary financial and trafficking ledger for the East Dallas syndicate, along with complete digital backups and confessions. I’m transmitting the location to your federal task force right now.”
“Status of targets?” the voice asked sharply.
“One neutralized in self-defense. One secured for federal custody. And Detective Marcus Grant needs to be picked up for internal affairs review within the hour.”
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“Copy that, Sergeant,” the voice replied. “Good hunting.”
I hung up, turned around, and walked out of the warehouse into the cool, pre-dawn Texas air.
