Chapter 3 - The Final Authorization
Inside the locked sanctuary of my study, I opened my secured, government-issued laptop and logged directly into the encrypted operational portal using my biometric security key. A flashing high-priority notification greeted me across the screen: FINAL AUTHORIZATION RECEIVED. TARGET 1: MARSH, CORDELIA. EXECUTION TIME: 0600 HOURS.
I scrolled down the encrypted deployment manifest, my eyes tracking the list of target locations: Cordelia Marsh’s multi-million-dollar downtown Austin penthouse, Marsh Development corporate headquarters, and our suburban residence on Oakridge Drive.
And right there, typed in crisp, unyielding black font on line four: TARGET TWO: VALE, NATHANIEL JAMES.
My husband was upstairs right now, tossing his clothes into an overnight bag, comforting himself with the arrogant delusion that the greatest danger in his life was managing his mistress's ego and figuring out how to divide our marital property cleanly. He had explicitly bragged through the door only minutes ago that Cordelia "had people who could make this clean"—implying high-priced corporate fixers and shark divorce attorneys who could bury me in legal fees.
The irony was suffocating. Cordelia’s high-priced fixers couldn't save her from a federal grand jury indictment under the RICO Act, and they certainly couldn't stop three tactical vans from boxing in our driveway before breakfast.
At 5:27 AM, the encrypted burner phone resting beside my laptop vibrated once against the wooden desk. I picked it up and read the five words that signaled the end of our marriage, our home, and Nathaniel’s glittering corporate illusion:
May you like
TEAM IN POSITION. DO NOT ENGAGE.
I set the phone down, turned off the desk lamp, and leaned back in my chair. Outside the window, the inky blackness of the pre-dawn sky slowly began to bleed into a cold, pale slate grey. I didn't sleep a wink. I just sat in the dark, breathing quietly, waiting for the sun to rise and the hammer to drop.
