Chapter 9 - the janitor's closet
The Mill Creek courthouse had twelve public entrances.
Jack knew seventeen.
He had keys to nine.
Blackridge guarded the obvious ones.
At 2:14 a.m., Jack entered through a storm-drain access tunnel beneath the west parking lot.
Cole followed.
Elena stayed outside coordinating federal teams.
She hated the plan.
Jack considered that a positive sign.
Good plans usually made somebody nervous.
They climbed through a utility hatch beneath the records basement.
The emergency lights were red.
Cole whispered, "Feels like a horror movie."
Jack listened.
"Two men upstairs."
"You can hear that?"
"Boots."
Cole decided not to ask.
They reached Jack's maintenance cage.
The padlock was broken.
Inside, shelves had been torn apart.
Buckets overturned.
Boxes opened.
Someone had searched thoroughly.
Jack stepped carefully.
"Don't touch anything."
Cole looked around.
"If Rourke searched already, Webb's package may be gone."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because Rourke called me."
Jack crouched.
He examined the floor.
Dust.
Bleach residue.
One fresh scrape near a storage cabinet.
He moved it.
Nothing.
Then he looked at the wall.
Five years earlier, Jack installed a narrow access panel after a pipe burst.
Only maintenance knew.
He opened it.
Inside was a waterproof envelope.
Cole stared.
"Nathan Webb was smarter than Barnes."
Jack removed it.
Heavy.
Inside were three flash drives, photocopied contracts, bank-routing records, and a handwritten ledger.
At the top of the first page:
BLACKRIDGE COUNTY CAPTURE PROGRAM.
Cole whispered, "Jesus."
Jack examined names.
Judges.
Sheriff's officials.
State police commanders.
Contractors.
County commissioners.
A federal investigator.
Elena's leak.
Jack found another section.
MILL CREEK PHASE ONE.
Beside it was a date.
Tonight.
Cole took photographs.
Jack turned pages.
Then stopped.
A familiar name appeared.
JACK HART.
Cole saw it.
"What the hell?"
Beside Jack's name was a payment record.
One hundred eighty thousand dollars.
Jack's face hardened.
"I never received that."
"Could be fake."
"It is."
"Why include you?"
Jack read the description.
SPECIAL OPERATIONS CONSULTING.
Rourke had built a financial trail making Jack look like part of Blackridge.
Cole understood.
"If Rourke gets exposed, he frames you."
Jack nodded.
"The former special-operations soldier who secretly worked as a courthouse janitor."
"It'd look terrible."
"It would look perfect."
A voice behind them said, "It still does."
Jack turned.
Sheriff Barnes stood in the doorway.
One arm in a sling.
Gun in the other.
Cole reached for his weapon.
Barnes aimed at him.
"Don't."
Cole stopped.
Jack noticed Barnes was alone.
"Where's Rourke?"
Barnes smiled weakly.
"Looking for me."
"You escaped."
"Turns out being underestimated works for both of us."
Jack held the envelope.
Barnes's eyes went to it.
"Give me that."
"No."
"Those records put me away forever."
"That's the idea."
Barnes laughed.
"You think Rourke's going to let you walk out?"
"I think he's more interested in you."
Barnes's smile faded.
Jack continued.
"You stole from him."
"I took what I earned."
"You murdered Webb."
"He was going to ruin everything."
"You shot my son."
Barnes's eyes shifted.
"He saw me."
"So you shot a seventeen-year-old twice."
"I had no choice."
Cole's face twisted.
"You always had a choice."
Barnes looked at him.
"You think you're better than me now?"
"No."
Cole stepped forward slowly.
"I think I finally know what I became by following you."
Barnes aimed at him.
"Take another step."
Cole stopped.
Jack held Barnes's attention.
"Where were you going?"
"Out."
"Rourke controls the roads."
"I know routes he doesn't."
"You won't make it."
Barnes smiled.
"Then maybe I need insurance."
His gun shifted toward Jack.
"You."
Jack said nothing.
Barnes approached.
"Put the envelope down."
Jack obeyed.
"Kick it over."
He did.
Barnes bent slightly.
That was when the courthouse fire alarm erupted.
Barnes flinched.
Sprinklers activated.
Water filled the basement.
Cole had triggered the silent maintenance switch with his elbow.
Jack moved.
He struck Barnes's wrist.
The gun discharged into the ceiling.
Cole grabbed the envelope.
Barnes fought hard despite his injury.
He drove his head into Jack's face.
Jack stumbled.
Barnes reached for a backup pistol at his ankle.
Cole aimed.
"Stop."
Barnes froze.
Cole's hands shook.
Barnes smiled.
"You won't shoot."
Cole's breathing changed.
Barnes knew him.
Knew his fear.
"You never could."
Cole lowered the weapon slightly.
Barnes reached again.
Jack shouted, "Cole."
Cole fired.
One round.
Barnes screamed as the bullet struck the floor inches from his hand.
Cole stared at him.
"I said stop."
Barnes looked genuinely shocked.
Cole's hands still shook.
But the gun remained steady enough.
Jack handcuffed Barnes to a pipe.
"Now you stay."
Barnes laughed through pain.
"You think Rourke cares about these papers?"
Jack picked up the envelope.
"He cares enough to kill for them."
"No."
Barnes grinned.
"You still don't understand."
Jack paused.
Barnes continued.
"The money isn't why Rourke came back."
"What is?"
Barnes looked directly at him.
"You."
Jack's eyes narrowed.
Barnes laughed.
"Blackridge was working fine until Rourke learned you were here."
"How?"
"County employment records."
Jack waited.
"He saw your name two years ago."
"Then why wait?"
"Because he wanted to know whether you remembered."
"Remembered what?"
Barnes smiled.
"The reason your team died."
Jack stepped closer.
"I don't know why they died."
"Exactly."
Barnes leaned his head against the pipe.
"Rourke thinks you took something from him twenty years ago."
"What?"
"I don't know."
"Then you're useless."
Jack turned.
Barnes shouted after him.
"He said it could destroy everything he built."
Jack stopped.
Cole looked at him.
Jack's mind returned to the operation where he left the Army.
The compound.
The explosion.
The chaos.
His teammate Mason dying beside him.
A courier they were ordered to extract.
Something Jack had carried out without realizing its value.
A small metal case.
Jack had handed it to military intelligence.
At least he thought he had.
Then a memory surfaced.
After the explosion, before evacuation, Mason had shoved something inside Jack's gear.
Jack had forgotten.
No.
Not forgotten.
Buried.
Because Mason's final words had never made sense.
Don't give it back.
Jack whispered, "Oh no."
Cole asked, "What?"
Jack looked at him.
"I know what Rourke wants."
A voice came over the courthouse intercom.
"Jack."
Rourke.
Barnes laughed.
Jack stared at the ceiling speaker.
Rourke continued.
"You found Webb's files."
Jack said nothing.
"Good."
The courthouse doors locked automatically.
Metal shutters began descending over the basement exits.
May you like
Rourke's voice remained calm.
"Now let's talk about what you stole from me in Syria."
