Chapter 7 - Retribution at the Blackwood Tower
At 11:30 PM, the fifty-story glass monolith of Blackwood Tower on Wacker Drive was surrounded by forty federal tactical vehicles, Chicago police cruisers, and three hundred of my loyal soldiers.
The building’s fire alarms wailed into the midnight air. Smoke billowed from the executive boardroom on the fiftieth floor. Inside, Senator Marcus Sterling and Vanessa were frantically tossing hard drives and paper ledgers into an industrial incinerator chute, flanked by ten corrupt private security contractors.
The heavy reinforced glass double doors blew inward with a deafening crash.
I stepped through the haze of smoke and shattered glass in my soot-stained tuxedo, my Kimber .45 locked in my hand. Flanking me were twelve federal marshals from the Department of Justice, with Special Agent Miller holding an unsealed federal indictment.
And walking proudly beside me was Emma, holding five-year-old Leo securely by the hand. Around her neck, the silver swan caught the emergency floodlights, blazing with righteous purity.
Vanessa’s paper files slipped from her trembling fingers, scattering across the Persian rug. Senator Sterling’s cigar dropped onto the floor as the color drained from his wrinkled, arrogant face.
“Damien…?” Sterling stammered, backing toward the glass overlook. “This is an illegal intrusion! I am a United States Senator! You have no jurisdiction—”
“Your jurisdiction expired forty minutes ago, Senator,” Special Agent Miller said, presenting a sheaf of federal warrants. “We have Gabriel Blackwood’s cipher journal, the unredacted offshore bank manifests, and the ballistics and toxicology reports from the Galena medical examiner. You and your daughter are under arrest for federal racketeering, contract murder, interstate kidnapping, and treason.”
Vanessa let out a shriek of unadulterated madness. She lunged for a nickel-plated revolver resting on the conference table, aiming straight at Emma and Leo. “If I burn, Gabriel’s brat burns with me!”
Before her finger could complete the trigger pull, my Kimber barked once.
The .45 round shattered Vanessa’s wrist, sending the gun spinning across the glass table. She collapsed to the floor, clutching her mangled arm, weeping in pathetic, broken terror.
I crossed the distance in two strides, stepping onto the table, looking down at Senator Sterling as federal marshals snapped heavy steel cuffs around his wrists.
“You took my brother,” I whispered, my voice cutting through the room like cold iron. “You tried to murder an innocent child for money. You will spend the rest of your life in an eight-by-ten concrete box at ADX Florence, forgotten by the world you tried to buy.”
As the federal agents marched them out through the shattered glass, Vanessa looked at Leo one last time, her eyes filled with bitter, defeated venom. Leo didn’t flinch. He squeezed Emma’s hand, looked up at me, and smiled.
May you like
Special Agent Miller stepped forward, handing a signed court document to Emma with a respectful bow. “Mrs. Blackwood… by authority of the federal surrogate court, your marriage to Gabriel Blackwood is officially recognized, and Leo Blackwood is certified as the sole legitimate heir of his father’s estate, under the permanent joint guardianship of you and Damien Blackwood.”
Emma buried her face into my chest, weeping tears of pure, uncontainable vindication, while little Leo wrapped his arms around our legs, holding us together under the city lights.
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