Chapter 3
CHAPTER 4 — The Ghost Protocol
The safehouse was not a police property.
Thomas did not trust the system to hide his daughter.
The system had let Emilia Petersen down.
The system had let Jessica Wagner down.
Thomas trusted concrete, elevation, and men who knew how to keep their mouths shut.
He drove three hours north.
Deep into the Harz Mountains.
The roads turned from asphalt to gravel, and then to dirt.
Thick pine trees blocked out the moonlight.
Snow crunched heavily beneath the tires.
Beate slept in the passenger seat, exhausted by the adrenaline crash.
Thomas kept his eyes on the narrow, winding path.
Finally, a small cabin appeared in the clearing.
No streetlights.
No neighbors.
Just a stone chimney smoking quietly against the winter sky.
Thomas parked the car.
The front door of the cabin opened.
A large, broad-shouldered man stepped out into the freezing cold.
He wore a thick wool sweater and held a steaming mug of coffee.
Dieter Krause.
Thomas’s oldest friend.
A man who had saved Thomas’s life in a desert ambush twenty years ago.
“Perimeter is secure,” Dieter said quietly as Thomas stepped out.
“Motion sensors on the tree line. Cameras on the access road.”
“No digital footprint. The Wi-Fi is routed through three proxy servers.”
“Good to see you, old friend,” Thomas said, shaking his hand.
“How is she?” Dieter asked, looking at the sleeping woman in the car.
“Broken. But healing.”
Thomas gently woke Beate.
She blinked, disoriented, the terror instantly returning to her eyes.
“You’re safe,” Thomas said quickly.
“We are at Dieter’s place. Gero doesn't know this cabin exists.”
Beate nodded, stepping out into the snow.
The cold air seemed to wake her up.
Dieter offered her a gentle smile.
“I made soup,” he said. “Come inside. It’s warm.”
The interior of the cabin was simple but fortified.
Thick wooden shutters covered the windows.
A heavy iron bar secured the front door.
For the first time in years, Beate did not flinch when the door locked.
Because the lock was keeping the monster out, not keeping her in.
She sat by the roaring fire, wrapping her hands around a bowl of stew.
Thomas and Dieter stood in the kitchen, speaking in hushed tones.
Dieter opened his laptop.
Lines of code and GPS tracking maps illuminated his face.
“He is still at the resort,” Dieter reported.
“Room service was ordered an hour ago. Two bottles of expensive champagne.”
“He thinks he’s king of the world.”
“Let him drink,” Thomas said. “The hangover will last twenty years.”
“What about Brenner?”
“She is securing the warrants,” Dieter said.
“The nanny-cam footage was enough to get a judge out of bed.”
“Aggravated assault. Attempted murder of a fetus. Unlawful imprisonment.”
Thomas stared into the fire.
“It’s not enough.”
Dieter paused. “Thomas, he’s looking at fifteen years.”
“I want him destroyed,” Thomas said, his voice deadly quiet.
“I want his reputation burned to ash.”
“I want his bank accounts emptied.”
“I want his company to disown him.”
“I want him to have nothing left but the clothes on his back when they put him in that cell.”
Dieter smiled slowly.
The smile of a hacker who had just been given the green light.
“You brought the ledgers from his desk?”
Thomas handed over the heavy bag.
“Do your worst.”
Dieter cracked his knuckles.
“Give me three hours. I’ll find every dirty cent he ever hid.”
That night, Beate slept in the guest room.
She woke up screaming twice.
Phantom hands around her throat.
Phantom belts striking her back.
Both times, Thomas was there before her eyes even opened.
He sat in a chair by her bed.
He held her hand.
“I am here,” he whispered.
“He is not.”
“I will never let him near you again.”
By the third time she woke up, the sun was rising over the mountains.
She looked at her father.
He was still awake.
Still watching the door.
A soldier holding the line.
She touched her belly, feeling the tiny flutter of life inside.
For the first time, she smiled.
May you like
The ghost protocol was working.
She was finally invisible.
