Chapter 13 - The Interrogation in the Snow
The man in the sedan was young, wearing an expensive wool coat that looked entirely out of place in a muddy suburban alleyway at one o'clock in the morning. His breath came in ragged, terrified gasps as he stared up at me, his hands trembling violently against the black leather steering wheel.
“Who sent you?” I demanded, keeping my weapon steady, my posture rigid and unyielding against the freezing wind. “And don't bother lying, because my patience expired about ten minutes ago when your text message came through.”
“I—I don't know what you're talking about!” the man stammered, his eyes darting frantically toward the passenger door as if calculating his odds of escaping into the dark. “I’m just a freelance IT consultant! I was hired through an online agency to run routine network diagnostics on local municipal servers!”
“Municipal servers don't use classified Department of Defense proxy architectures from dissolved Balkan subcontractors,” I replied coldly, leaning in closer so he could see the absolute lack of hesitation in my eyes. “Try again. Who is your handler at Aegis Trust?”
The man swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing violently. “I swear on my life, I don't know his real name! He goes by ‘Mr. Sterling.’ He communicates exclusively through encrypted proxy channels and pays in cryptocurrency. He told me to drop that warning text because you were poking around accounts that belong to people much more powerful than a disgraced con man like Nolan Vickers.”
“Nolan was just a foot soldier, wasn't he?” I pressed, narrowing my gaze. “Vanguard Holdings was a front for a much larger international asset-stripping syndicate targeting vulnerable families across the entire East Coast.”
“More than just the East Coast,” the man whispered, his defiance completely crumbling under the pressure of my interrogation. “They operate nationwide. They target elderly individuals with substantial real estate holdings, fabricate power-of-attorney documents using inside legal contacts, and liquidate everything before the victims even realize their deeds have been transferred. Nolan got greedy and botched the job with your mother by getting sloppy and violent, which brought federal attention down on the whole operation. That’s why Sterling wants the files scrubbed.”
“Unfortunately for Mr. Sterling, I don't take orders from cyber-criminals,” I said, tapping my phone screen with my free hand. “Detective Vance? I have an uninvited guest sitting in a dark sedan behind my mother’s property. Send a transport unit immediately. We have a live witness ready to cooperate with federal prosecutors.”
A startled curse escaped the consultant's lips. “You called the police? You can't do that! Sterling will kill me if he finds out I talked!”
“Sterling won't be finding out anything,” I replied smoothly as the distant wail of sirens began to echo across the quiet suburban streets. “Because by the time sunrise hits Fairfax County, your handler is going to find himself on the receiving end of a federal grand jury indictment.”
Ten minutes later, local patrol units had the alley completely locked down. Detective Vance stepped out of an unmarked cruiser, pulling his heavy winter coat tight against the chill as he walked over to inspect the seized laptop resting on the sedan’s passenger seat.
“Good catch, Colonel,” Vance said, watching as two officers placed the shaking IT consultant into the back of a patrol wagon. “We’ve been trying to trace the Aegis Trust proxy for weeks. If this kid’s logs check out, we have the digital signature we need to issue a federal warrant for Sterling’s arrest.”
“Don't wait for morning, Detective,” I said, handing over a secure flash drive containing the raw data I had extracted from the suspect's dashboard interface. “The primary server hosting their proxy network is located in a commercial data center downtown. If we move in right now, before they realize their operative has been compromised, we can seize the entire database before they initiate a remote wipe.”
Detective Vance took the flash drive, a look of profound respect crossing his weathered features. “You know, Colonel, most people would take a quiet weekend after putting their ex-husband away for fifteen years.”
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“Peace isn't something you wait for, Detective,” I replied, adjusting my collar as the red and blue lights flashed against the falling snow. “It’s something you fight to secure.”
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