The Counterstrike
1741 Words
Cole drove with Clark in the passenger seat. The city blurred past. Neither spoke.
Dean's text echoed in Cole's mind. He's gone. Disappeared.
Cole turned onto Richter's street. Then he slammed the brakes.
Three police cruisers blocked the road. Lights flashed. Officers stood by their doors, hands on holsters.
“What the hell?” Clark said.
Cole pulled over. A uniformed officer walked to the window.
“This area is closed. Turn around.”
“I'm here to see Dana Richter. Federal prosecutor.”
The officer's face tightened. “Ms. Richter was arrested an hour ago. Federal charges. Obstruction of justice.”
Cole's blood ran cold. “On what grounds?”
“I'm not at liberty to say. Turn around, sir.”
The officer walked away.
Cole sat frozen. Clark reached over and put the car in reverse.
“Drive. Now.”
Cole backed up. Turned onto a side street. Parked behind an abandoned warehouse.
“They arrested her,” Cole said. “My father did this.”
“Of course he did. He has judges in his pocket. Federal judges too.”
Cole slammed his fist against the steering wheel. The horn blared.
“We had everything. The deposition. The evidence. The witness.”
“And now it's all tainted. Any judge will throw it out. Richter is compromised.”
Cole leaned his head against the wheel. His mind raced.
“We need to get my mother. Before they find her.”
“She's still in Richter's house?”
“Yes.”
“Then she's already been found.”
Cole started the engine. He drove around the block. Richter's house was surrounded by officers. Evidence tape across the door.
Evelyn Mathers was being led out in handcuffs.
Cole watched from a distance. His mother's face was pale. Her legs barely held her. An officer pushed her into a cruiser.
The car drove away.
Cole gripped the wheel until his knuckles turned white.
“They're taking her back to The Pines,” Clark said.
“Or somewhere worse.”
“We can get her out again.”
“Not if they have federal guards. Not if they've been warned.”
Clark was quiet for a moment. Then he reached into his pocket. Pulled out a phone.
“I have a contact. Inside the facility. A nurse. She owes me a favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
“The kind that gets people out of locked wards.”
Cole looked at his brother. “Why would you help me? After everything?”
“Because I'm done being afraid. And because you were right. He's a monster. And I helped him.” Clark's voice cracked. “I need to make that right.”
Cole nodded. “Then call your contact.”
Clark dialed. Spoke quietly. Hung up.
“She'll help. But not until tonight. The day shift is loyal to my father. The night shift... less so.”
“Then we wait.”
Cole drove to an abandoned motel on the edge of the city. The sign read “VACANCY” but the parking lot was empty. He parked in the back. Out of sight.
They sat in the car. The hours passed. The sun climbed. Then fell.
At 7 PM, Clark's phone buzzed.
“It's time,” he said.
Cole started the engine. They drove to The Pines.
The sanatorium looked different at night. Dark. Silent. The iron gates were closed. A guard sat in the booth.
“How do we get in?” Cole asked.
“We don't. The nurse will bring her out. Service entrance. Same one you used before.”
They parked in the trees. Waited.
The back door opened. A woman in scrubs appeared. Behind her, Evelyn Mathers. Walking. Slowly. But walking.
Cole got out. Ran to his mother.
“Mom.”
“I knew you'd come.” Her voice was weak. But steady.
The nurse looked at Clark. “You owe me. Big.”
“I'll pay.”
“You'll pay now.” She held out her hand. Clark gave her a roll of cash. She disappeared back inside.
Cole helped his mother to the car. She lay down in the back seat.
“Where to?” Clark asked.
Cole thought. Every safe house had been compromised. Frankie's warehouse. The farmhouse. Richter's home.
“We need someplace new. Someplace no one knows.”
“I know a place,” Clark said. “An old military bunker. Outside the city. Abandoned. No one's used it in years.”
“Lead the way.”
Clark drove. The roads grew darker. The city lights faded. Woods on both sides.
The bunker was hidden in a hillside. Concrete walls. Steel door. Clark punched a code into a keypad. The door opened.
Inside, it was cold. Dark. But dry. Emergency lights flickered on.
“This was a communications outpost during the Cold War,” Clark said. “The government abandoned it in the 90s. I found it years ago. Used it as a safe house.”
Cole helped his mother to a cot in the corner. She lay down. Her eyes closed.
“She needs food. Water. Medicine,” Cole said.
“There's supplies in the back. Military rations. Bottled water. First aid kit.”
Cole found the supplies. He brought water to his mother. She drank. Then slept.
Clark sat on an overturned crate. His injured shoulder hung limp.
“What's the plan now?” he asked.
Cole sat across from him. “We regroup. We find another prosecutor. Someone who can't be bought.”
“There's no such thing. Everyone has a price.”
“Then we find someone who's already rich. Someone who doesn't need the money.”
Clark was quiet. Then he nodded.
“There's a federal judge in the northern district. Her name is Margaret Chen. She's overseen several cases against Aegis. She's refused bribes before. Publicly.”
“Can we trust her?”
“We can trust that she hates my father. He tried to have her removed from the bench. It didn't work.”
Cole pulled out his phone. Dead. He had forgotten to charge it.
“I need to call Dean. See if he's still alive.”
Clark handed him a spare phone. Cole dialed Dean's number.
“Who is this?” Dean's voice was rough.
“It's Cole. Where are you?”
“Hiding. Richter's arrest made the news. Half the department is looking for me.”
“We have a new plan. Federal Judge Margaret Chen. Northern district. Can you get us a meeting?”
A pause. “Chen. I know her. She's tough. But she's fair.”
“Can you get us a meeting?”
“I can try. But it'll take time. She doesn't see just anyone.”
“We have evidence. The recording. The deposition transcripts. The photographs.”
“That might be enough. I'll make some calls.”
The line went dead.
Cole looked at Clark. “He'll try.”
“Trying isn't enough. We need action. My father is already building a new case against you. By tomorrow, he'll have a judge sign an order for your arrest. Not escape. Not obstruction. Murder.”
“He can't. There's no new evidence.”
“He'll manufacture it. He always does.”
Cole stood up. He walked to the bunker door. Stared out into the darkness.
“Then we need to hit him first. Before he hits us.”
“How?”
“We go public. Not through the courts. Through the press. A journalist. Someone with nothing to lose.”
Clark shook his head. “Journalists can be bought too.”
“Not all of them. There's an investigative reporter in D.C. Her name is Mira Vance. She's been covering Aegis for years. She's been threatened. Followed. Hacked. She keeps going.”
“How do you know her?”
“She contacted me. After Lauren died. She wanted to write a story. I was too scared to talk.”
“And now?”
“Now I have nothing left to lose.”
Cole dialed information. Got the number for the D.C. Chronicle. Asked for Mira Vance.
“Vance.” Her voice was sharp. Impatient.
“My name is Cole Mathers. You called me six months ago. About my father.”
A long pause. “I remember. You hung up on me.”
“I'm not hanging up now.”
“Why the change of heart?”
“Because my father killed my wife. And I have proof.”
Another pause. Longer.
“Where are you?”
“I can't tell you that. But I can meet you. Tomorrow. Neutral ground.”
“Name the place.”
Cole thought. Somewhere public. Somewhere safe.
“The National Mall. Lincoln Memorial. Noon.”
“I'll be there.”
The line went dead.
Cole turned to Clark. “Tomorrow. D.C. We end this.”
“You think one reporter can take down my father?”
“I think the truth can. And she's the one who'll tell it.”
Clark stood. Walked to the bunker door.
“Then we should get some sleep. It's a long drive to D.C.”
Cole looked at his mother. Asleep on the cot. Her breathing was steady.
“I'll take first watch.”
Clark nodded. He lay down on the concrete floor. Closed his eyes.
Cole sat by the door. The bunker was silent. The darkness was complete.
His phone buzzed.
A text from an unknown number.
“You think you're clever. Running to D.C. Running to a reporter. But I have eyes everywhere. Including the Chronicle. Mira Vance won't save you. She'll bury you. —C.M.”
Cole stared at the screen.
His father knew. Of course he knew. He always knew.
But Cole didn't turn back. He couldn't.
He typed a reply.
“See you in D.C.”
Then he turned off the phone.
The hours passed. The bunker stayed dark.
At dawn, Cole woke Clark.
“Time to go.”
Clark stood. His shoulder was stiff. But he didn't complain.
They helped Evelyn to the car. She was weaker today. The medicine was wearing off.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To end this,” Cole said.
He drove.
The highway stretched east. Toward D.C. Toward the truth.
Behind them, the city faded.
Ahead, a trap waited.
Or a reckoning.
Cole didn't know which.
But he drove anyway.
- Writer
