The Return Of The War god

4

Chapter 4:

 ---

 Amelia Hart didn't look like the daughter of a monster.

 She looked tired. That was the first thing Adrian noticed. Tired and guarded, with dark circles under her eyes and a coffee cup clutched in both hands like a lifeline. She sat alone at a corner table in a small café downtown, a laptop open in front of her, a stack of papers beside it.

 She checked her watch. Then the door. Then her watch again.

 Waiting for someone.

 Adrian sat two tables away, a newspaper in front of him, watching her through the reflection in the window. He'd been there for an hour. She'd been there for forty minutes. She ordered one coffee. Black. No sugar. She didn't touch her laptop. She just sat there, nervous, scanning the room every few seconds.

 She's scared.

 Not of him. Of something else.

 Elena's voice crackled in his ear. "You're sure about this?"

 "No."

 "Then why are you doing it?"

 Adrian folded the newspaper. "Because someone has to."

 He stood. Walked to her table. She looked up, startled, her hand instinctively moving to her bag.

 "Amelia Hart?"

 "Who's asking?"

 "My name is Adrian Cole. I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to talk."

 She studied him. Warily. The way someone studies a stray dog — not sure if it wants to be fed or bite.

 "I don't know anyone named Adrian Cole."

 "No. But you know Marcus Kane."

 Her face went pale. Her hand tightened on the bag.

 "I don't know what you're talking about."

 "Your father."

 She stood up fast. Too fast. Her chair scraped against the floor. The barista looked over.

 "I don't have a father," she said quietly. "I don't know who you are or what you want, but you need to leave. Now."

 Adrian didn't move.

 "Your real name is Amelia Kane. You changed it five years ago. You haven't spoken to your father since you walked out of his house in the middle of the night and never looked back." He paused. "I know why you left."

 Her eyes widened. "You don't know anything."

 "I know he hurt you. I know he hurt a lot of people. And I know you've been living in fear ever since — waiting for him to find you. Waiting for the day he decides you're a loose end too."

 Amelia's breath caught.

 "Who are you?"

 Adrian pulled out a chair. Sat down slowly. Gestured for her to do the same.

 "Someone who was betrayed by the same man you're hiding from. Someone who wants to make him pay for what he's done." He looked up at her. "I'm not here to use you, Amelia. I'm here because I think you want him to pay too. And I think you've been waiting a long time for someone to ask for your help."

 She stared at him for a long moment. Then, slowly, she sat back down.

 "You have five minutes."

 ---

 Amelia didn't cry.

 That was the second thing Adrian noticed. She talked about her father the way someone talks about a disease they've survived — clinical, detached, with a thin layer of anger buried beneath the surface.

 "He adopted me when I was seven," she said, stirring her coffee even though she wasn't drinking it. "My real parents died in a car accident. He was a friend of the family. He took me in, gave me his name, told me he'd protect me."

 She laughed bitterly.

 "Protect me. That's what he called it."

 "What did he do?"

 She looked up. "What didn't he do? He controlled everything. Who I talked to. What I wore. What I studied. I wasn't allowed to leave the house without permission. I wasn't allowed to have friends over. He said it was for my safety. That there were people who wanted to hurt him, and by extension, me."

 Adrian said nothing. He just listened.

 "When I was nineteen, I found a file in his study. Documents. Photographs. Names of people who had died in accidents — except they weren't accidents. They were executions. He ordered them. Every single one."

 Her voice trembled.

 "I confronted him. I told him I was going to the police. He laughed at me. He said the police worked for him. The media worked for him. The government worked for him. He said if I tried to expose him, he would destroy me. He said he'd make sure no one ever believed a word I said."

 She wiped her eyes.

 "So I ran. Changed my name. Moved across the country. Started over. I've been looking over my shoulder ever since."

 Adrian leaned forward. "You kept the file?"

 She hesitated. "I made copies. Hid them. I don't know why. Insurance, maybe. In case he ever found me."

 "Amelia. That file could bring him down."

 "I know." She looked at him. "But he's not just some corrupt businessman. He's a senator. He has connections everywhere. The last person who tried to expose him ended up dead in a river. And I'm just one woman with a flash drive."

 "You're not alone anymore."

 She studied him. Something shifted in her eyes. Hope, maybe. Or just relief that someone finally believed her.

 "Who are you really?"

 Adrian was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Six years ago, your father sent me on a mission. It was supposed to be an extraction. A rescue. It was a trap. He had me shot and left for dead. Then he went to my funeral and gave a speech about my sacrifice."

 Amelia's hand went to her mouth.

 "He does that," she whispered. "He uses people. Then he discards them. Then he pretends he cared."

 "He's been doing it for twenty years. But he made one mistake."

 "What's that?"

 "He didn't make sure I was dead."

 ---

 They left the café separately. Amelia first. Then Adrian, two minutes later.

 He walked three blocks, turned a corner, and stopped.

 A black sedan was parked across the street. Engine running. Two men in the front seat.

 Watching.

 Adrian didn't hesitate. He walked toward the car.

 "Adrian, what are you doing?" Elena's voice in his ear.

 "They've been following her. I want to know who they are."

 "Wait for backup—"

 He didn't wait.

 He reached the car, yanked open the passenger door, and grabbed the man in the driver's seat by the collar.

 "Who sent you?"

 The man's eyes went wide. His partner reached for a gun. Adrian twisted the driver's arm, heard it crack, and shoved him into the passenger. Then he grabbed the gun from the second man's hand and pressed it to his temple.

 "I'll ask again. Who sent you?"

 "K-Kane! Senator Kane! He's been watching her for months!"

 "Why?"

 "He thinks she has something. Something he wants back."

 Adrian's jaw tightened.

 "The file."

 "I don't know what it is, I swear! He just said to keep eyes on her and report back if anyone contacted her!"

 Adrian stared at him for a long moment. Then he lowered the gun.

 "Tell Kane something for me."

 "Anything. Anything you want."

 "Tell him I found his daughter. Tell him I know what she has. And tell him I'm coming for him."

 He stepped back from the car.

 "Now get out of here before I change my mind."

 The sedan peeled away, tires screeching.

 Adrian stood in the empty street, breathing hard. His hands were shaking again.

 Not now.

 He pulled out his phone. Dialed Elena.

 "I need a safe house. For Amelia. Kane knows she's in the city. He's been watching her."

 "Already on it. What are you going to do?"

 Adrian looked up at the sky. Dark clouds rolling in. A storm coming.

 "I'm going to do what I should have done six years ago."

 "Which is?"

 He started walking.

 "I'm going to kill a senator."