Adopted Son Talks to "Headless Man" at 3 AM — Morning After, My Face Is Cut From Every Photo in the House
👉 Previous Decision: You faced an escalating threat with an arrest warrant issued against you.
Defending a static position against both corrupt law enforcement and Driscoll’s contractors carried an 85% probability of physical failure. I ran the numbers again. The cabin was exposed, my resources finite. I needed to shift the odds.
“We force a dynamic confrontation,” I told Maya, who sat opposite me, her face pale but resolute. “Their strength is coordination and numbers. Our advantage is chaos and leverage.”
I sent out the message: an anonymous tip, routed through multiple burner phones, inviting Julian Driscoll and Sheriff Halloway to meet me at the abandoned county sawmill. The pretense was simple: I was finally ready to hand over Jonah and sign the custody papers in person, in exchange for my freedom.
“They’ll be heavily armed,” Maya cautioned.
“Of course,” I replied, checking the feed from a small, hardened video rig. “That’s why you’ll be up there.” I pointed to the dilapidated catwalks overlooking the main mill floor. “High-gain video, streamed directly to an external cloud server. Our insurance policy.”
She nodded, adjusting her camera bag. “Don’t get yourself killed, Finch. We still have a story to tell.”
My comms crackled. “The Sheriff’s unit is en route. Driscoll’s team not far behind.”
It was a gamble. A desperate, calculated risk. But standing still was guaranteed defeat. The sawmill, with its cavernous spaces and decaying machinery, would be our final stage.
➡️ Read Chapter 17 to continue the story
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