PART 21:

At 8:17, the back door’s lock clicked. Nate was in the office reviewing footage on his laptop, but he heard it clearly through the audio feed from the cameras they’d installed. He watched the screen as a figure slipped through the door. Tall, athletic build, moving with the confidence of someone who’d done this before.

David Chang. Nate felt vindication and anger in equal measure. He’d been right. They’d been right. This was the man who’d hacked Claire’s car, who’d planted the spyware, who tried to make it look like an accident. David went straight for the Valkyrie, pulling out a laptop and connecting it to the car’s diagnostic port with practiced efficiency.

He worked quickly, his fingers flying over the keyboard, probably trying to wipe the evidence, to erase the digital trail that led back to Marcus Webb. Nate waited, watching on camera, letting David incriminate himself thoroughly. The plainclothes officers waited, too, poised but patient.

They needed this to be airtight. Then the front door opened. Nate’s head snapped up. That wasn’t part of the plan. The front was supposed to be locked, secure. The only entry point the back door that David had just used. Marcus Webb walked into the shop like he owned it. “David!” Marcus called out, his voice carrying through the empty bay.

“How much longer?” Nate watched on camera as David looked up, startled. “I told you to stay away. If this goes wrong, it’s not going wrong. It’s taking too long.” Marcus walked toward the Valkyrie, and even through the grainy camera footage, Nate could see the cold calculation on his face. “How hard is it to delete some files?” “It’s not just files.

Rhodes backed up everything. The server logs, the diagnostic history, the trace routes. He built a case.” David’s voice was stressed, scared. “We should cut our losses, leave the country. The data trail leads right to us.” “The data trail leads to nothing without the physical evidence, and once we destroy that Marcus gestured at the Valkyrie.

“It’s just a mechanic’s word against ours. Who do you think the board will believe?” “Marcus, this is insane. We already tried to kill her twice. How many more times before before we succeed?” Marcus pulled something from his coat pocket. In the dim light, it took Nate a moment to recognize it. A gun. Everything changed in that instant.

This wasn’t just corporate espionage anymore. This wasn’t just attempted murder by sabotage. This was Marcus Webb standing in Nate’s shop with a weapon, willing to eliminate anyone who stood between him and what he wanted. Detective Chen’s voice crackled in Nate’s earpiece. “All units, suspect is armed. Move in carefully.

Rhodes, stay where you are.” But Nate was already moving. He couldn’t explain it rationally. The smart thing was to stay hidden, let the police handle it, avoid confrontation with an armed man who’d already proven he was willing to kill. But something about Marcus standing there with a gun in the shop where Nate had worked for 2 years, threatening the fragile safety he’d built for Stella, flipped a switch in his brain.

This was his space, his territory, and he was done letting dangerous people make the rules. He walked out of the office and into the service bay, making no effort to hide his footsteps. Marcus and David both spun toward him, and Nate saw David’s face go white with shock, while Marcus’s expression hardened into something cold and determined.

“Mr. Rhodes,” Marcus said, and the gun stayed pointed at the ground, but his hand was steady. I was hoping we wouldn’t have to involve you directly.” “Yeah, well, I I tend to get involved when people break into my shop.” Nate kept his voice calm, conversational, like they were discussing the weather instead of murder.

“Twice in 1 week. You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.” “It’s not personal. You’re just collateral damage.” “Funny, it feels pretty personal from where I’m standing.” Nate took another step forward, and he saw David’s eyes flick toward the back door, calculating escape routes the way Stella did. “What’s the plan here, Marcus? Shoot me, destroy the evidence, pin everything on David?” Marcus smiled, and it was the coldest thing Nate had ever seen.

“Something like that. David here has been unstable lately, obsessed with Ms. Montgomery. When the police investigate, they’ll find his history of stalking, his unauthorized access to company systems. A disturbed employee acting alone. Tragic, really.” “You son of a David started, but Marcus cut him off. You should have been more careful with your digital footprint, David.

Should have used better proxies. Should have covered your tracks.” Marcus’s voice was almost gentle, like he was explaining to a child why their mistake was fatal. “But you didn’t, and now you’re a liability.” The gun came up, but not toward Nate, toward David. Everything happened in a fraction of a second.

David lunged sideways. Marcus fired. The sound was deafening in the enclosed space, echoing off concrete and metal. And Nate moved without thinking, without planning, driven by the same instinct that made him check Stella’s breathing every night. He hit Marcus from the side just as the second shot rang out, knocking him off balance.

The gun skittered across the floor. David was on the ground clutching his shoulder, blood seeping between his fingers, but alive. The first shot had missed. The second had winged him. Nate and Marcus struggled for a moment, grappling like children on a playground, except one of them was fighting for their life, and the other was fighting to become CEO.

Marcus was strong, desperate, fueled by 3 years of ambition and the certainty that he was entitled to Claire’s position. But Nate had spent those same 3 years lifting daughters and moving engines and staying awake through nightmares. He had the kind of strength that came from necessity rather than gyms, from love rather than ambition.

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