Chapter 35 - The Rat in the Cage
The interrogation room at the federal holding facility smelled of damp concrete and industrial disinfectant.
When the heavy steel door buzzed open, Jason flinched violently, throwing his arms over his head as if expecting a blow. When he looked up and saw me standing in the doorway, wearing a tailored charcoal coat, flanked by two armed federal marshals, the color drained from his face until he looked like a corpse.
"B-Brian..." he stammered, his voice cracking like a terrified child's. "Brian, please. You have to tell them! You have to tell them I didn't know!"
I didn't answer. I pulled out the metal chair across from him, the legs screeching against the floor, and sat down. I rested my forearms on the cold steel table and leaned forward, staring directly into his bloodshot eyes.
"You didn't know what, Jason?" I asked, my voice terrifyingly calm. "You didn't know that Richard hired four armed men to breach my home? You didn't know they brought a cutting torch to burn through the steel door where your six-month-old nephew was sleeping?"
"No! I swear to God, Brian, I swear on Mom's grave!" Jason sobbed, slamming his cuffed hands against the table. "They told me it was just intimidation! Richard and Arthur said they were just going to secure the paper documents from the vault! They said no one would get hurt! They told me Emily would just give up the cryptographic keys if they showed force!"
"You called me a failure, Jason," I whispered, the words hanging like daggers in the freezing room. "At Thanksgiving dinner, while my wife sat silently beside me, you laughed in my face. You told the whole family I was a pathetic nobody who couldn't even keep an apartment in Boston, while you drove Amanda's leased Porsche and strutted around like a king."
Jason broke into hysterics, tears and snot running down his face. "I was stupid! I was jealous, Brian! All my life, Dad compared me to you! You were the smart one, the tech genius, the one who didn't need his approval! I had to beg for every scrap of attention, and then Amanda came along and offered me an easy way to look like a winner! I was drowning in debt! Amanda spends fifty thousand dollars a month on clothes! I was going to lose everything!"
"You already have," I said coldly.
"Brian, please," Jason begged, sliding out of his chair onto his knees, dragging his chains across the concrete floor toward my feet. "Arthur Valmont is hosting an emergency gala tonight at the Vance Manor in Newport. All the offshore investors are there. They’re transferring the secondary bearer bonds out of the country before the federal seizure takes effect at dawn. If you help me cut a plea deal, I can give you the transfer codes! I can give you the master password to Arthur's private server!"
I looked down at my brother. There was no hatred left in me—only an immense, cold disgust.
"Get up, Jason," I said quietly.
"Brian—"
"Get up off your knees," I commanded, my voice cutting like a razor.
He struggled back into his seat, wiping his face with his bruised sleeve, shaking uncontrollably.
"You don't get to bargain with me," I said, standing up and buttoning my coat. "You don't get to offer me codes that Miller’s team decrypted twenty minutes ago. You gave Arthur Valmont the blueprints to my house. You gave him Emily's schedule. You signed our death warrants."
"Brian, I’m your brother!" he shrieked as I turned toward the exit. "We share the same blood! You can't let them send me to federal prison! I won't survive in there! Brian!"
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I stopped at the heavy iron door, turning my head slightly back toward him.
"You stopped being my brother the moment you let evil walk into my nursery," I said evenly. "Enjoy the silence, Jason. You'll have forty years to get used to it."
