Chapter 7 - The Night Nathaniel Chose Her Over His Empire
Police narrowed the location to three waterfront properties connected historically to Voss. Nathaniel recognized one immediately: an abandoned cold-storage terminal his uncle once used for private meetings. Voss demanded the flash drive. Federal investigators refused to surrender original evidence. They created a duplicate with tracking software, though Ruiz warned Voss might detect it. Nathaniel volunteered to deliver it.
“No,” I said.
We stood inside a mobile command unit while tactical teams prepared.
“He asked for me.”
“He asked for the drive.”
“He wants Caldwell.”
“You just found out she’s yours.”
Nathaniel looked at me.
“That’s exactly why I’m going.”
I hated him for making sense.
Daniel, still cuffed but cooperating, said Voss would expect hidden security. “He’ll scan Nathaniel. Search the car. Probably use multiple spotters.”
Ruiz asked, “Can we trust you?”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“No. But you can verify what I say.”
That answer sounded painfully familiar to Nathaniel’s response about trust.
Maybe honest men and dishonest men sometimes use same words for different reasons.
The plan began at midnight.
Nathaniel drove alone.
Police followed at distance.
I stayed command unit because every instinct wanted to go and every rational person forbade it.
Nathaniel entered terminal carrying the drive in his jacket pocket.
Body camera hidden in his watch.
We watched grainy video.
Voss stood under warehouse lights.
Maisie sat on a crate wearing Nathaniel’s suit jacket around her shoulders.
I realized it belonged to Marco.
Marco must have tried to protect her before losing consciousness.
Voss smiled.
“Family resemblance is embarrassing once you know where to look.”
Nathaniel did not respond.
“Let her go.”
“Drive.”
“Girl first.”
“You’re negotiating poorly.”
Nathaniel’s voice stayed calm.
“I don’t negotiate with children in the room.”
Voss laughed.
“Patrick said the same thing about weakness. Then you spent ten years pretending you were different.”
“I am.”
“Because you bought legitimate hotels?”
“Because I don’t need a six-year-old to make men listen.”
Maisie looked at Nathaniel.
She was crying silently.
He glanced at her.
“Hey.”
Voss frowned.
Nathaniel kept his eyes on Maisie.
“Remember the birthday rules?”
She sniffed.
“Cake and a chair.”
“Exactly.”
“You never got real candles.”
“I know.”
“We need to fix that.”
“We will.”
It was absurd conversation.
Beautiful.
Voss held out one hand.
“The drive.”
Nathaniel tossed it across.
Voss caught it.
“Now Maisie.”
Voss plugged the drive into laptop.
Seconds passed.
He smiled.
Then screen flashed.
Tracking activation.
His expression changed.
“You brought police.”
Nathaniel moved toward Maisie.
Voss drew a gun.
Everything became chaos.
Police breached.
Lights exploded.
Maisie screamed.
Nathaniel threw himself over her.
A shot fired.
I could not see where it landed.
The body camera went black.
I screamed his name although he could not hear me.
Then radios erupted.
“Child secure.”
“Suspect down.”
“Officer needs medical.”
“Caldwell hit.”
My knees gave way.
By the time ambulance left, Voss was in custody with a gunshot wound to shoulder. Nathaniel had been shot through upper arm while covering Maisie. The bullet missed major vessels.
Maisie refused to leave his side.
When I reached hospital, she sat beside his bed holding his hand.
“Mommy!”
I pulled her into my arms and cried into her hair.
Nathaniel opened his eyes.
“Birthday cake.”
“What?”
He was drugged.
“Real candles next time.”
I laughed through tears.
“Yes.”
Maisie climbed carefully onto chair.
“Mommy, he jumped on me.”
“I know.”
“He got shot.”
“I know.”
“He said a bad word.”
May you like
Nathaniel murmured, “That seems less important.”
For once I agreed.
