Chapter 17: The Mathematics of Hostages
Chapter 17: The Mathematics of Hostages
Vanessa frowned, her hand pausing mid-air. "What are you talking about? The money is in the pouch."
"That’s just ninety thousand dollars in cash," I said, stepping closer to her, deliberately ignoring Marcus’s frantic gestures to back off. "That’s nothing. That won't keep you alive for six months on the run. The real money—the four hundred thousand remaining from the Fowler assets—is locked behind an encrypted multi-sig key. Diane didn't leave it to Noah in a standard will. She hid the digital tokens inside the logging registry accounts from thirty years ago."
I pointed at the white logo on the ledger. "You can take that pouch and run, Vanessa. But without me to clear the routing protocol, the federal government will flag those bills the second you try to deposit them. You’ll be broke, a fugitive, and Vince will kill you the moment he realizes you can't pay his secondary fee."
Vanessa’s eyes darted from me to the ledger, a flicker of panic finally breaking through her confidence. "You're lying. You're trying to stall."
"I’m an accountant, Vanessa. I don't lie about balances," I said, pulling my laptop from my shoulder bag and slamming it onto the metal table between us. "Look at the screen. I have the live terminal open. I can transfer the full four hundred thousand to Vince’s offshore account right now. He doesn't care about your loyalty, Vanessa. He cares about the ledger. If I pay him directly from here, he doesn't need you anymore."
I didn't wait for her permission. My fingers flew across the keyboard, accessing the hidden script I had discovered the night before. I pulled up Vince’s agency registration profile, located his routing number from our own payment history, and initiated a wire transfer template.
"Vince," I said into the phone, which was still live on the table. "Are you watching your encrypted wallet? I’m setting up a two hundred thousand dollar direct transfer right now. It clears in three minutes. All you have to do is lock my sister’s associate out of the house and walk away."
Through the speaker, there was a long, agonized silence. We could hear the sound of the wind howling outside the farmhouse.
"Claire, don't!" Vanessa screamed, lunging across the table to grab the laptop.
May you like
Marcus moved instantly, intercepting her body, slamming her down against the safety deposit boxes. The remote control flew from her hand, skittering across the concrete floor.
"Vince?" I whispered into the phone, my finger hovering over the enter key. "Do we have a contract?"
