Two guns. One bounty. And a man who had been hunting the wrong enemy for fifteen years.
CHAPTER 9
They reached the mission after midnight.
There was no boy.
Only an old priest.
He looked at Scott.
Then smiled.
“You came late.”
Scott’s face tightened.
“Where is my son?”
The priest pointed toward a grave.
Scott walked over.
The name on the stone was Daniel Wood.
Scott fell to his knees.
Clay looked away.
Thomas stood several yards behind them.
The priest approached.
“Your son lived.”
Scott looked up.
“How long?”
“Two years.”
“How did he die?”
“Fever.”
Scott closed his eyes.
For fifteen years, he had imagined his son murdered.
The truth was somehow crueler.
Thomas stepped forward.
“I found him.”
Scott looked at him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because Harrow was watching.”
“Even after all these years?”
“Yes.”
The priest handed Scott a sealed envelope.
“Your son wrote this.”
Scott opened it.
The handwriting was uneven.
Father,
I don’t know if you’re alive.
If you are, don’t come looking for revenge.
I don’t want my last memory of you to be anger.
Scott’s hands trembled.
Clay looked toward Thomas.
“What about the ledger?”
Thomas pointed toward the church.
“Hidden under the altar.”
They found it.
Every payment.
Every order.
Every murder.
Harrow had built an empire from stolen military funds.
Thomas had kept the ledger for fifteen years.
Scott closed it.
“Why didn’t you publish it?”
Thomas looked at him.
“Because the people who would have read it were paid by Harrow.”
Clay nodded.
“So we bring it directly to him.”
Thomas smiled.
“Exactly.”
Scott looked at the ledger.
Then at Thomas.
“You’re still going after him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Thomas’s answer was simple.
“Because some debts don’t disappear.”
Scott stared at him.
Then slowly nodded.
“Neither do mine.”
