Chapter 9 - THE NOTEBOOK OF NO RETURN
Z
The notebook was not what Genevieve expected.
She had imagined passwords, coordinates, and classified codes.
Instead, the first page contained a handwritten note.
If you are reading this, sweetheart, then Cross has found a way back into our lives.
I’m sorry.
The words blurred as tears filled her eyes.
Marcus had known.
Not every detail, perhaps, but enough to understand that the danger would not end with his death.
Genevieve sat on the nursery floor beneath the blue wall, the notebook open across her knees. Outside, two military vehicles waited at opposite ends of the street. Inside, the house remained quiet.
Amelia was safe somewhere else.
That knowledge was the only reason Genevieve could breathe.
The notebook was divided into sections.
Names.
Dates.
Financial transfers.
Encoded references to operations that had never appeared in official records.
But there was another section, written in plain language.
People I Trust.
At the top of the page were three names.
General Ruth Caldwell.
Lieutenant Colonel Daniel Miller.
And beneath them, written with heavier ink:
Genevieve Vance.
Her fingers trembled.
Marcus had trusted her not because she was his wife.
Not because she was carrying his child.
He trusted her because he knew exactly who she was.
A soldier.
An intelligence officer.
A woman who could survive the truth.
Near the back of the notebook, she found an address in Baltimore and a date from two years earlier.
Beside it, Marcus had written:
Cross keeps the original ledger somewhere physical. He does not trust digital evidence. If I fail, this is the place to start.
Genevieve immediately contacted Miller.
Within forty minutes, she was in the back of an armored SUV heading toward Baltimore.
The location was an abandoned printing warehouse near the harbor.
It looked empty from the outside.
Broken windows.
Rusting gates.
Old shipping containers.
But Marcus had written one warning beneath the address.
Do not enter through the front.
Miller studied the notebook under a tactical light.
“He expected surveillance,” he said.
“He expected Cross to clean up after himself.”
“And yet he left this behind.”
Genevieve looked through the rain-streaked window.
“He knew I would find it.”
The team entered through a maintenance tunnel behind the warehouse. The building was colder inside than outside. Water dripped from overhead pipes, and the stale air smelled like oil and wet concrete.
At the far end of the tunnel was a locked steel door.
One of the agents examined it.
“Recent electronic security upgrade,” he said. “This place isn’t abandoned.”
Genevieve stepped closer.
On the keypad was a small etched symbol.
A blue lantern.
Her heart stopped.
Blue Lantern Bar.
The place Marcus had used as the password for the secure drive.
She entered the date of their first dance.
The door unlocked.
Inside was a hidden office.
The walls were covered in maps, bank statements, satellite photographs, and newspaper clippings about military accidents, corporate bankruptcies, and political scandals.
In the center of the room sat a metal safe.
Before anyone could approach it, a voice echoed from the darkness.
“You really are just like him.”
The team spun around.
Nathaniel Cross stepped out from behind a row of old printing machines.
He was not alone.
Two armed men stood behind him.
Genevieve’s pulse accelerated, but she did not move.
Cross smiled at her.
“Marcus always believed you would come,” he said. “He said you were the one person who could never leave a question unanswered.”
“You killed him.”
“I gave him choices.”
“You gave him a death sentence.”
Cross tilted his head.
“Your husband was offered a future. He could have walked away. He could have protected you and the child you were expecting.”
Genevieve’s stomach tightened.
Marcus had known she was pregnant before his final mission.
Of course he had.
“He chose the truth,” Cross continued. “Men like Marcus always do. They think dying for a principle makes them heroic.”
“No,” Genevieve said. “He chose to stop men like you from deciding who gets to live safely.”
Cross’s smile faded.
“You don’t know what I am.”
“I know exactly what you are. You are a coward who hides behind contractors, fake charities, and people desperate enough to sell their souls.”
His eyes turned hard.
Then the warehouse lights shut off.
Gunfire exploded through the darkness.
Miller pulled Genevieve behind a concrete pillar as agents returned fire. The sound echoed through the building, violent and deafening.
Cross’s men had planned an escape route.
But they had not planned for Marcus.
Genevieve remembered the notebook.
Original ledger. Physical evidence.
She crawled toward the metal safe while Miller’s team secured the room.
The safe had no keypad.
Only a small mechanical lock.
And engraved above it were two initials.
M.V.
G.V.
Genevieve removed her wedding ring.
Inside the band, Marcus had once engraved a phrase only they understood.
Always find your way home.
She pressed the ring against the lock.
The safe opened.
Inside was the ledger.
A thick black book containing names, payments, dates, and signatures.
Including Nathaniel Cross.
Including Raymond Sterling.
Including Harrison Voss.
And including one name that made Genevieve’s blood run cold.
May you like
Victoria Sterling.
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