Chapter 9: A Failed Murder
Chapter 9: A Failed Murder
The highway stretched endlessly beneath the dark morning sky.
Brandon Prescott drove faster than he ever had in his life.
The luxury sedan that once represented his family's power now felt like a prison.
Every passing tree.
Every shadow on the road.
Every pair of headlights behind him.
Made his heart race.
He kept checking the rearview mirror.
The black pickup truck was still there.
Same distance.
Same speed.
Following.
Brandon tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
"No..."
He whispered.
"They found me."
The memory card in the duffel bag beside him suddenly felt heavier than gold.
Because it wasn't just a recording.
It was the only thing standing between the Prescott family and complete destruction.
The Evidence That Could End Everything
Inside the FBI surveillance vehicle several miles behind him, Agent Michael Carter watched the tracking monitor.
The small red dot moved steadily along the highway.
"Target is heading east."
Another agent checked the satellite feed.
"He's alone."
Carter nodded.
"Not for long."
The memory card Brandon carried contained the final piece of evidence.
The recording from Emily's hidden phone.
The one showing:
Ethan's threats.
Margaret's instructions.
Brandon's involvement.
And something far worse...
A conversation recorded three weeks before Emily was locked in the guest house.
A conversation that proved the Prescott family had planned everything.
The Recording
Inside the evidence laboratory, Detective Brooks listened to a recovered audio file from a damaged backup fragment.
Static filled the room.
Then voices appeared.
Margaret Prescott.
Calm.
Controlled.
Cruel.
"The girl has to believe nobody will help her."
Brandon answered.
"What if she fights back?"
Margaret replied without hesitation.
"Everyone breaks eventually."
A pause.
Then Ethan's voice.
"Mother, this is going too far."
Margaret laughed softly.
"You wanted her money."
"This is the price."
Brooks stopped the recording.
His expression hardened.
There was no misunderstanding anymore.
No family dispute.
No accident.
A deliberate plan.
Brandon's Last Mistake
The FBI team followed Brandon toward an abandoned private airfield outside the city.
The same airfield the Prescott family had used for years.
Private jets.
Secret meetings.
Unregistered flights.
Agent Carter watched as Brandon's car entered the property.
"He's arrived."
The team prepared to move.
Then something unexpected happened.
A second vehicle entered the airfield.
A black SUV.
No license plates.
No identification.
Carter frowned.
"Who else is there?"
The team zoomed in.
The answer came quickly.
"Margaret Prescott."
The Family Turns on Itself
Brandon stepped out of the car.
His mother approached.
She looked calm.
Almost relieved.
"You took too long."
Brandon looked around nervously.
"I was being followed."
Margaret's expression changed slightly.
"By who?"
"I don't know."
She stared at him.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Brandon noticed something.
The two men standing behind her.
Not security guards.
Not employees.
Professional.
Armed.
His face changed.
"Mother..."
Margaret sighed.
"You should have listened."
Brandon stepped backward.
"What?"
"You were supposed to bring the evidence."
"Not become a liability."
Brandon stared at her in disbelief.
"You hired people to kill me?"
Margaret's expression remained emotionless.
"I built this family by removing problems."
"And now..."
She looked at him sadly.
"You are one."
The Attempted Execution
One of the men raised his weapon.
Brandon froze.
"Wait."
He looked at Margaret.
"I'm your son."
For the first time, Margaret showed irritation.
"Don't confuse blood with loyalty."
The gunman stepped closer.
Thenâ
A voice echoed across the airfield.
"FBI!"
Floodlights exploded on.
Vehicles surrounded the runway.
Agents poured out from every direction.
The gunman turned.
Too late.
The entire operation had been recorded.
Margaret's face went pale.
Brandon dropped to his knees.
Not from fear.
From realization.
His own mother had tried to erase him.
The Chase Begins
Chaos erupted.
One gunman fired toward the agents.
The FBI responded immediately.
The second suspect ran toward the hangar.
Brandon grabbed the duffel bag and escaped through another entrance.
Carter saw him.
"Brandon Prescott!"
Brandon stopped.
Slowly turned.
For a moment, Carter expected him to run.
Instead, Brandon looked exhausted.
"I know what you're here for."
"The memory card."
Brandon looked at the bag.
Then at Margaret.
She was being handcuffed across the runway.
The woman who had controlled him his entire life.
The woman who had convinced him that power mattered more than family.
Finally...
He understood.
She would sacrifice anyone.
Even him.
A Different Choice
Brandon slowly extended the duffel bag.
"I'll give you everything."
Carter approached carefully.
"Why?"
Brandon laughed bitterly.
"Because I finally realized something."
"What?"
"My mother never loved anyone."
He looked toward Margaret.
"She only loved control."
The agent took the bag.
Inside were:
The memory card.
Financial records.
Encrypted files.
Bank accounts.
Names.
Enough evidence to destroy the Prescott empire forever.
Margaret's Last Weapon
As agents escorted Margaret toward the vehicle, she remained strangely calm.
Brooks arrived moments later.
"You lost."
Margaret smiled.
"No."
Brooks frowned.
"You still think you can win?"
Margaret looked past him.
Toward the hospital where Emily was being protected.
"You don't understand."
Brooks stepped closer.
"What?"
Margaret whispered:
"Emily is the only witness who can destroy me."
She smiled faintly.
"And witnesses can disappear."
Brooks' expression changed.
"What did you do?"
Margaret said nothing.
The Hospital Alarm
Twenty minutes later, every phone in the FBI command center rang simultaneously.
An emergency alert.
Mercy General Hospital.
Security breach.
Victoria received the call while sitting beside Emily.
She immediately stood.
"What happened?"
The agent on the phone spoke quickly.
"Colonel Hart..."
"Someone entered the hospital using false credentials."
Victoria's entire body went still.
"Where are they?"
A pause.
Then:
"Near Emily's floor."
Victoria looked toward her daughter.
Emily immediately understood.
"They found me."
Victoria grabbed her hand.
"No."
She reached for her service weapon.
"They came looking for you."
She checked the hallway.
Then looked back at Emily.
"But they forgot something."
Emily swallowed.
"What?"
Victoria's eyes hardened.
"They're not walking into a hospital room."
"They're walking into a battlefield."
The Enemy Inside
The hallway lights flickered.
A man wearing hospital scrubs walked slowly toward Room 118.
He carried a medical chart.
He smiled at every nurse he passed.
Nobody suspected him.
Until he reached the security checkpoint.
The guard looked at his badge.
Then frowned.
"Doctor?"
The man stopped.
"Yes?"
The guard examined the identification again.
"This badge belongs to someone who retired three years ago."
The man's smile disappeared.
He reached inside his coat.
But before he could moveâ
A hand grabbed his wrist.
Victoria Hart.
She twisted his arm behind his back.
The fake doctor gasped.
"You should have checked your target."
Victoria whispered.
"Because I did."
The man struggled.
"You think you can stop this?"
Victoria tightened her grip.
"Yes."
"Because unlike your employers..."
"I don't abandon my people."
The Final Warning
After the attacker was arrested, investigators searched his belongings.
They found:
A photograph of Emily.
A floor plan of the hospital.
A schedule of security rotations.
And one handwritten note.
Only six words.
"Phase Two Begins After Midnight."
Detective Brooks read it carefully.
His face became serious.
"What is Phase Two?"
No one answered.
Then Brandon Prescott, now cooperating with investigators, looked at the note.
His expression changed instantly.
"That..."
Everyone turned toward him.
"What?"
Brandon swallowed.
"My mother used that phrase years ago."
Victoria stepped closer.
"Used it for what?"
Brandon looked terrified.
"For the day she planned to destroy everyone who betrayed her."
The room fell silent.
Brooks looked toward the clock.
11:47 PM.
Thirteen minutes remained.
And somewhere...
May you like
Margaret Prescott's final plan had already begun.
End of Chapter 9
