Chapter 6 - The Anatomy of a Traitor
"Julian," Guzman said quietly, his voice cutting through the sound of a second heavy impact against the kitchen door. "How do you know so much about Victor Cole’s operations?"
Julian didn't look back. His eyes remained locked on the kitchen corridor, his gun raised in a low ready position.
"Because twelve years ago, I was working for the same defense firm as Cole," Julian confessed, his voice heavy with a dark, bitter regret. "I was the analyst who tracked your daughter's movements in Paris. I thought I was working for an official government extradition team. I didn't realize until it was too late that Cole was running a rogue kidnapping syndicate."
Guzman’s eyes narrowed into slits of lethal intensity. "You led him to my daughter?"
"I was young, arrogant, and blind," Julian said, turning his head slightly to look Guzman in the eye. "And I've spent the last twelve years hunting Cole down to fix my mistake. That's why I'm standing here today, Arthur. Not for your money. Not for your shipping lines. To pull your daughter out of that van, or die trying."
The ten-year-old girl reached up, grabbing the hem of Julian’s charcoal jacket. "He kept us safe in Marseilles," she whispered to her grandfather. "When the bad men came to our house last night, Mr. Julian was the one who helped mom hide us in the delivery van."
Guzman looked at Julian’s face—seeing the deep lines of exhaustion, the dark circles under his eyes, and the quiet, unyielding resolve of a man seeking redemption.
Slowly, the old billionaire inclined his head.
"If we survive this night, Sterling," Guzman murmured, "your debt is settled. But if my daughter dies in that street..."
"She won't," Julian interrupted flatly.
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CRACK!
The kitchen door finally yielded. The steel frame buckled inward, and a flashbang grenade bounced across the tiled floor, detonating with a blinding burst of white light and a deafening sound.
