THE LAST ALIBI

The Mountain Road

The side road turned to gravel. The gravel turned to dirt. The dirt turned to two ruts cutting through the trees.

Cole slowed the sedan to a crawl. Branches scraped both doors. The forest closed in around them.

Clark navigated from the passenger seat. “Another mile. There's a clearing.”

Evelyn lay in the back. Her breathing was shallow. Her face was gray.

“She needs rest,” Cole said.

“She'll get it. The cabin has a bed. Wood stove. Canned food.”

The trees opened. A small clearing. A cabin. Log walls. Tin roof. A porch with two rocking chairs.

Cole parked. He got out. The air was cold. Thin. They were high up.

Clark walked to the cabin door. Tried the handle. Locked.

“Give me a minute.” He pulled a key from under a loose rock. Unlocked the door.

Inside, the cabin was small. One room. A wood stove. A bed in the corner. A table with two chairs. Shelves lined with canned goods and bottled water.

Cole carried his mother inside. Laid her on the bed. Covered her with a blanket.

She opened her eyes. “Where are we?”

“Safe,” Cole said. “Rest.”

She closed her eyes.

Clark lit the wood stove. The fire caught. Warmth spread through the room.

Cole sat at the table. His body ached. His shoulder throbbed. But his mind wouldn't stop.

“How long can we stay here?” he asked.

“A week. Maybe two. Depends how hard they're looking.”

“They're looking hard.”

Clark sat across from him. “Then we don't stay long. A few days. Let your mother recover. Then we move again.”

“Move where?”

“I don't know. Somewhere else. Somewhere they won't find us.”

Cole looked at the fire. The flames danced.

“We can't run forever.”

“We can run until we find a way to fight.”

Cole pulled out his phone. No signal. The screen was cracked.

“We need to call Dean. Mira Vance. Someone.”

“There's a satellite phone in the closet. Old. But it works.”

Cole found the phone. He turned it on. The screen glowed.

He dialed Dean's number.

“Who is this?” Dean's voice was distant. Echoey.

“Cole. We're in the mountains. Clark's cabin.”

“The mountains? Which mountains?”

“Better you don't know. What's happening in the city?”

“Chaos. Your father has federal agents searching for you. They're calling you a domestic terrorist. They're saying you threatened to bomb the courthouse.”

“That's a lie.”

“Of course it's a lie. But it's on every news channel. Your face is everywhere.”

Cole closed his eyes. “What about Mira Vance?”

“I reached her. She still wants to meet. But she won't come to the mountains. She wants neutral ground.”

“Tell her we'll meet in a week. Somewhere public. Somewhere safe.”

“I'll tell her. But Cole... your mother. Is she okay?”

“She's alive. That's all that matters.”

“Keep her that way.”

The line went dead.

Cole put down the satellite phone. Clark was watching him.

“What did he say?”

“They're calling me a terrorist. My father is controlling the narrative.”

“He always controls the narrative. That's how he survives.”

Cole stood up. Walked to the window. The forest was dark. The trees swayed in the wind.

“I need to clear my name. Not in a year. Not in a month. Now.”

“How?”

“I need to record my own statement. Tell my side of the story. Leak it to the press.”

“They'll say it's fake. Manufactured.”

“Then we leak the evidence too. The recording of my father. The photographs. The deposition transcripts.”

Clark shook his head. “That's dangerous. If you release the evidence before we have a prosecutor, your father will destroy it. He'll claim it's forged. He'll have his judges issue injunctions.”

“Then we release it anyway. Let the public decide.”

“The public believes what they see on TV. And your father owns the TV stations.”

Cole turned from the window. “Then we find someone he doesn't own.”

“Who?”

“The internet. Social media. Independent journalists. People who can't be bought because they have nothing to sell.”

Clark was quiet for a long moment. Then he nodded.

“There's a blogger. A woman named Zara Kane. She's been covering government corruption for years. She has two million followers.”

“Can we trust her?”

“We can trust that she hates liars. And your father is the biggest liar she's ever seen.”

Cole sat back down. “How do we reach her?”

“She has a secure drop. An encrypted website. We can leave a message. She'll respond if she's interested.”

“Do it.”

Clark pulled out his phone. He typed. The screen glowed in the dark cabin.

“Message sent. Now we wait.”

The hours passed. The fire burned low. Cole added wood. The cabin stayed warm.

Evelyn woke at midnight. Her eyes were clearer.

“Cole,” she whispered.

He went to her side. “I'm here.”

“I dreamed about your father. He was standing over me. Holding a pillow.”

“It was just a dream.”

“No. It was a memory. He tried to smother me. In the sanatorium. A year ago. I fought back. He stopped.”

Cole's hands clenched. “He'll pay for that.”

“He'll pay for many things.” She grabbed his hand. Her grip was weak. But real. “Promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Don't become him. Don't let the anger turn you into a monster.”

“I won't.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

She closed her eyes. Slept.

Cole sat by the fire. His mother's words echoed in his head.

Don't become him.

But the anger was there. Burning. Growing. Every time he thought about Lauren. About his mother. About the years his father had stolen.

The anger wanted out. Wanted blood.

Cole pushed it down. Buried it.

Not yet. Not now.

Clark slept on the floor. His injured shoulder was propped on a pillow. His breathing was steady.

Cole stayed awake. Watching the door. The windows. The dark forest outside.

At 3 AM, a sound broke the silence.

A branch snapping. Close to the cabin.

Cole stood. He walked to the window. Peered through the gap in the curtains.

Nothing. Just trees. Darkness.

Another sound. Footsteps. Soft. Careful.

Cole reached for the rifle leaning against the wall. Clark had brought it from the car.

He checked the chamber. Loaded.

The footsteps stopped.

Then a knock on the door.

Three times. Slow. Deliberate.

Cole didn't answer.

The knock came again. Louder.

“Cole. It's Petra. Open the door.”

Cole's blood ran cold. Petra. Here. In the mountains.

How had she found them?

He looked at Clark. Clark was awake now. His hand on his pistol.

“Don't,” Clark whispered. “It's a trap.”

Cole walked to the door. “How did you find us?”

“I followed you. From the bunker. I've been tracking your phone.”

“My phone is off.”

“Not off enough. Your father has people who can track any device. Even when it's off.”

Cole unlocked the door. Opened it.

Petra stood in the doorway. She was wearing a heavy coat. Her face was pale. Her hands were shaking.

“You shouldn't have come,” Cole said.

“I had no choice. Your father knows where you are. He's sending men. You have maybe an hour.”

Cole pulled her inside. Locked the door.

“How do you know?”

“Because I'm the one who told him.”

Clark raised his pistol. “I knew it.”

Petra raised her hands. “Wait. Listen. I told him because I had to. He has my sister. Lauren's other sister. The one no one knows about.”

Cole stared at her. “What other sister?”

“Her name is Ava. She's seventeen. Your father has been holding her for months. To control me. To control Lauren before she died.”

Evelyn sat up in bed. “Ava? Lauren never mentioned a sister.”

“Because she was ashamed. Ava was born after an affair. Senator Hawthorne's affair. Lauren found out. She was going to expose him. That's why your father killed her.”

Cole grabbed Petra's arm. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I can't live with the lies anymore. Your father promised to free Ava if I helped him. But he lied. He's never going to let her go.”

“Where is she?”

“Aegis headquarters. In D.C. The basement. They're holding her in a soundproof room.”

Cole released her. He walked to the window.

“An hour,” he said. “That's all the time we have.”

“Less now,” Clark said. “Every minute we talk, they get closer.”

Cole turned to Petra. “Can you lead us to Ava?”

“Yes. But we'll need help. The building is guarded. Armed response teams. Cameras everywhere.”

“Then we don't go in guns blazing. We go in quiet.”

Clark shook his head. “That's suicide. One building. Three people. Against an army.”

“We're not three people. We're five.”

Evelyn stood up. Her legs shook. “I'm coming.”

“No,” Cole said. “You're staying here. Hidden.”

“I can help.”

“You can stay alive. That's how you help.”

Evelyn sat back down. Her face was drawn.

Cole looked at Clark. “You have military training. So do I. Petra knows the building. That's enough.”

“It's not enough. But it's all we have.”

Cole picked up the rifle. Checked the magazine.

“We leave in ten minutes.”

Petra grabbed his arm. “There's something else. Something you need to know.”

“What?”

“Your brother. Clark. He's not who you think he is.”

Clark's face went pale. “Petra. Don't.”

“He's been working for your father this whole time. The texts. The warnings. They were all designed to lead you here. To this cabin. Where your father's men could find you.”

Cole looked at Clark. “Is that true?”

Clark didn't answer.

“Is it true?”

“It started that way,” Clark said. His voice was quiet. “Father wanted me to gain your trust. Lead you to a place where he could capture you. Quietly. Without witnesses.”

“And now?”

“And now I can't do it. I've been lying to him for days. Feeding him false information. Sending him to empty warehouses and abandoned houses.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Because if I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. I've had a dozen chances to pull the trigger. I didn't.”

Cole looked at Petra. “You knew about this?”

“I suspected. That's why I followed you. To warn you.”

“And now you're both telling me I can't trust anyone.”

Petra nodded. “That's the truth.”

Cole sat down. The rifle rested across his knees.

“Then we go to D.C. We find Ava. We release the evidence. And we burn my father's empire to the ground.”

“Together?” Clark asked.

Cole looked at his brother. The man who had lied to him. Protected him. Betrayed him. Saved him.

“Together.”

They gathered their things. Cole helped his mother into a hidden cellar beneath the cabin. A trapdoor under the rug.

“Stay here. Don't make a sound. I'll come back for you.”

“You'd better,” she said. “I didn't survive eight years in a sanatorium to die in a hole.”

Cole closed the trapdoor. Covered it with the rug.

They walked to the car. Clark drove. Cole sat in the passenger seat. Petra in the back.

The mountain road was dark. The headlights cut through the trees.

Behind them, the cabin disappeared.

Ahead, D.C. waited.

And Charles Mathers.

Cole checked his phone. No signal. No texts.

But he could feel his father watching. Always watching.

The car drove on.

Into the night.

Into the lion's den.