Chapter 8 - THE MAN IN THE SHIPPING OFFICE|
Marcos Vega had spent the morning discovering how much of his own company he did not control.
Gabriel’s audit revealed that three employees had accessed the restructuring proposal before it reached his desk. Two were junior accountants. The third was Victor Hale, the chief financial officer who had worked beside Marcos for nearly a decade.
Victor had approved several payments to shell companies linked to the Manta Group.
He had also authorized a transfer to a federal account used in an unrelated organized-crime investigation.
Marcos stood in the conference room, reading the report.
“Call him,” he said.
Gabriel hesitated.
“Victor left the building twenty minutes ago.”
“Where did he go?”
“Terminal Twelve.”
Marcos looked up.
The room seemed to lose its air.
“Who told you?”
“His access badge recorded the location. The terminal should be empty.”
“Nothing about this is empty.”
Marcos called Victor.
The phone rang until voicemail answered.
He called again.
This time, someone picked up.
A woman’s voice said, “You’re too late.”
Then the line went dead.
Marcos recognized the voice.
Isabel.
He grabbed his coat.
Gabriel blocked the door.
“You’re not going alone.”
“I’m not going anywhere without you.”
They drove to the riverfront, where Terminal Twelve stood behind a rusted fence and a line of abandoned freight containers. The facility had officially closed after a fire, but the gate had fresh tire marks and a new security camera.
Marcos recognized the camera model. His company had never purchased it.
Inside the main office, a desk lamp illuminated a stack of shipping manifests.
No one was there.
Marcos picked up the top document.
It listed container numbers, departure times, and the names of drivers assigned to routes that had been changed without his approval.
A second sheet contained a list of payments.
Beside one payment was Victor’s signature.
Beside another was a name Marcos had not expected to see.
Cristian Reyes.
He stared at it.
“What does that mean?” Gabriel asked.
Marcos turned the page.
A payment had been authorized two weeks before Cristian’s death. The description read: Source management and transport.
Marcos felt something cold move through him.
“I never approved this.”
Gabriel checked the account code.
“It came through a subsidiary.”
“Who controls it?”
“The registration points to a holding company owned by the Carrera family.”
A sound came from the rear corridor.
Marcos drew his weapon.
“Come out.”
A man emerged slowly, hands raised.
Victor Hale looked terrified.
“Marcos, listen to me.”
“Where is Isabel?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why is your signature on these payments?”
Victor swallowed.
“Because she said they were legal.”
“Did you believe her?”
“I wanted to.”
Marcos stepped closer.
“Did you know about Cristian Reyes?”
Victor’s face changed.
That was answer enough.
Before Marcos could question him further, the office lights went out.
A shot cracked through the darkness.
Gabriel shouted.
Marcos dropped behind the desk and fired toward the doorway. Glass shattered. Footsteps thundered across the corridor.
When the emergency lights came on, Victor was gone.
A single sheet of paper lay where he had stood.
On it, someone had written:
Ask your father what happened before you were born.
Marcos stared at the message.
May you like
His father had been dead for eleven years.
And suddenly, the past was no longer buried.
