Chapter 9 - The Highway North
Twenty miles outside the city, a sleek black sedan cruised silently along the rain-slicked interstate highway.
Inside the quiet cabin, Julian Vance sat in the rear passenger seat, his dark three-piece suit resting comfortably against the supple leather upholstery. On the seat beside him lay a sleek silver laptop, its screen displaying the final confirmation message from the Federal Reserve clearing system.
ALL SYNDICATE ACCOUNTS LIQUIDATED.
CASE FILE #9042 CLOSED.
The driver, an older man with silver hair and a military posture, looked at Julian through the rearview mirror.
"Where to now, Mr. Vance?" the driver asked. "The Director wants a full debriefing in Washington by morning."
Julian closed the laptop with a quiet, satisfying click. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a fresh, unlit cigar, turning it between his long, elegant fingers.
"Tell the Director I'm taking three days of accrued leave," Julian said smoothly, looking out the tinted window at the dark pine trees rushing past in the rain.
"Any specific destination, sir?"
May you like
Julian smiled—a quiet, enigmatic expression that held both the sharp intellect of an auditor and the deep, unyielding warmth of a man who had reclaimed his soul.
"Just a small town up north," Julian replied softly. "I heard there's a baker who makes an extraordinary loaf of sourdough."
