Chapter 3: Beneath Saint Gabriel
Daniel wanted Hannah to remain in the hospital.
Hannah refused.
“My brother may be alive.”
“You nearly lost the baby twelve hours ago.”
“And someone entered my room with a syringe.”
“You think leaving is safer?”
“I think waiting gives them time to remove whatever Caleb hid.”
Daniel stared at her.
She sat upright in bed wearing a borrowed sweater over her hospital gown, exhausted but determined.
The doctors warned that stress could trigger labor again. Daniel arranged a private ambulance, two nurses, and six armed vehicles.
Saint Gabriel’s Church stood abandoned in South Providence.
Its roof had partially collapsed after a fire years earlier. Graffiti covered the brick walls, and rainwater pooled across the cracked stone steps.
Martin joined Daniel and Hannah inside the first vehicle.
Vincent coordinated security from another SUV.
Ben remained at the estate under guard.
Daniel had wanted him moved to a safe house, but the boy had refused to leave without Hannah. Martin finally persuaded him by promising they would return before evening.
The church smelled of mold, smoke, and wet wood.
Hannah entered slowly with one hand beneath her stomach.
Daniel stayed close enough to catch her.
“What did Caleb mean by beneath Saint Gabriel?” Martin asked.
“The crypt?” Daniel suggested.
Hannah shook her head.
“Caleb hated cemeteries. He would never hide something near bodies.”
They searched the ruined sanctuary.
Most religious objects had been removed years earlier, but a stone statue of Saint Gabriel remained near the collapsed altar.
Hannah studied it.
In the photograph Martin possessed, Caleb wore a pendant shaped like an angel’s trumpet.
She knelt carefully beside the statue.
Daniel immediately reached for her.
“What are you doing?”
“The trumpet.”
A narrow brass instrument rested in the angel’s carved hands.
Hannah pressed it.
Something clicked beneath the stone base.
Daniel and Martin pushed the statue aside, revealing a metal compartment embedded in the floor.
Inside was a waterproof case.
Daniel opened it.
The case contained three flash drives, a handwritten ledger, photographs, and a small digital recorder.
Hannah recognized Caleb’s writing immediately.
Every page listed dates, ship names, false cargo manifests, police badge numbers, judges, politicians, and payments.
The money had moved through Whitlock Shipping before being disguised inside Carver Maritime accounts.
At the center of every page appeared the same initials.
S.W.
Sebastian Whitlock.
Claire’s father.
Daniel read in silence.
The operation was enormous.
Weapons entered Providence disguised as construction equipment. Stolen pharmaceutical shipments left the city in refrigerated trucks. Cash moved through labor unions, charities, and waterfront renovation projects.
Someone had forged Daniel’s approval on dozens of transactions.
Martin pointed toward another set of initials.
V.R.
Vincent Russo.
Daniel’s face became unreadable.
“Vincent has access to every Carver account,” Martin said.
“He also saved my life three times.”
“That does not make him innocent.”
Daniel picked up the recorder.
Aaron’s voice came through the speaker.
“Hannah, if you are hearing this, I failed to get home.”
Her hand flew to her mouth.
Aaron continued.
“Caleb found the first false manifest. I found the second. We thought we could take the evidence to the state police. We were wrong. Captain Malcolm Voss is being paid by Whitlock.”
Daniel’s gaze hardened.
Voss had attended the engagement celebration.
Aaron’s recording continued.
“Sebastian Whitlock is preparing to seize the Carver waterfront. He needs Daniel disgraced, imprisoned, or dead. Claire’s engagement is part of the plan.”
Hannah looked at Daniel.
He stared at the recorder without moving.
“Claire has access through the marriage,” Aaron said. “Vincent controls Daniel’s schedules and security. Together, they can weaken the organization from inside.”
A sound came from the upper balcony.
Daniel raised his gun.
“Down.”
Gunfire shattered the church windows.
Martin pulled Hannah behind the stone altar as bullets struck the walls.
Daniel returned fire.
Outside, engines roared.
At least ten armed men surrounded the church.
Vincent’s voice came through Daniel’s earpiece.
“We’re taking fire from the east side.”
Daniel pressed the microphone.
“Where are you?”
“Pinned behind the second vehicle.”
“Secure the road.”
Another bullet hit the altar.
Hannah covered her stomach.
Daniel crawled toward them.
“There’s an old clergy tunnel beneath the sacristy,” Martin said.
“How do you know?”
“I grew up in this neighborhood.”
Daniel handed Martin the waterproof case.
“Take Hannah.”
“I am not leaving you,” Hannah said.
“You are carrying my possible child and the evidence that can destroy half this city.”
“Daniel—”
“Go.”
An explosion tore through the front entrance.
Flames climbed the wooden doors.
Martin pulled Hannah toward the sacristy.
Daniel remained behind, firing toward the balcony.
They found the tunnel beneath a rotted carpet. Stone stairs led into darkness.
Hannah descended slowly, fighting pain in her abdomen.
Martin stayed behind her.
Halfway down, a shadow moved beneath them.
A man rose from the darkness.
Hannah screamed.
Martin reached for his weapon.
The man lifted both hands.
He was thin, bearded, and scarred across one side of his face.
“Hannah.”
She stopped breathing.
The voice had changed.
The face had changed.
But she knew his eyes.
“Caleb?”
Her brother took one unsteady step toward her.
Hannah began crying before he reached her.
He wrapped his arms around her carefully.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
Above them, the church shook with another explosion.
Caleb looked at Martin.
“You opened the compartment?”
“Yes.”
“Then they know.”
“Who?”
Caleb’s expression filled with dread.
“Everyone.”
The tunnel ceiling trembled.
Daniel appeared at the top of the stairs, blood running from his temple.
“We need to move.”
Hannah reached for him.
“Vincent?”
May you like
Daniel looked back toward the burning church.
“Gone.”
