Page 150 of Road to Redemption

At the doorway, Spencer and I nodded to each other.

One last push.

Gripping the glass knob in my hand, I twisted the door open and pressed into the room.

Standing at the center, was a tall man in a dark blue dress jacket with gold shoulder knots and sleeve ornaments.

My instinct was to stand at attention and lift my hand to a salute. But I knew this man, knew this General.

“Dad.” I stood upright, lowering my pistol just below center mass. My face flushed with anger, the balaclava hiding most of it.

My father turned around. “Major.”

“Holy shit.” Spencer gasped, closing the door quietly behind us and drawing her gun on my father. If we survived this mission, that alone would have been enough to have her court martialed.

“I’m surprised to see you here.” His voice was steady, tapping his hand along the whiskey glass in his hand.

My eyes darted down his uniform, the four stars of his rank along the cuffs of his suit jacket, badges and medals collecting around his heart. His hair was gray now. The last time I saw him, he still had a few dark hairs holding on.

He looked at Spencer and laughed. “Put that down, kid. You don’t know who you’re pointing that thing at.”

Unflinching, Spencer kept her pistol fixed on him. She didn’t answer to him.

I snapped out of my haze, lifting my weapon to his chest. “You’re a fucking monster.”

Groaning, my dad took a drink of his whiskey. “Not this shit again.”

“I saw all of it.” I hissed back at him.

He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

It was the kind of bald-faced lie that got him nominated to the President’s Cabinet. A willingness to lie to hold his power.

Gritting my teeth, I snarled. “You raped girls. Girls my own age. You fucking joked about selling me to the highest bidder.”

Dad clicked his tongue. “Technically, Isaac made the jokes. But that’s the past. There’s no evidence, Leona.”

“I read the fucking emails with my own eyes, read every word of the victim testimony.” I growled back. Next to me, I could feel Spencer stiffen. Memories of her own mother’s statements surely rushing back to her mind.

The general scoffed. “Rumors, all of it. Jealous women who lied about powerful men. A tale as old as time.”

He was old now, a man well past his military prime. Slower and clumsier, he knew his options to get out of here alive were low.

“Just put the gun down.” Dad said as he set his whiskey glass on a dresser, hoping still to deescalate.

Soft violins drifted in from the open balcony door.

Canon in D. That’s the signal.

My eyes flicked to Spencer. We were out of time.

It was just enough time for my dad to lunge forward.

I heard the whistle of the bullet before I even felt my finger pulling the trigger. The blood poured from his chest cavity before I could even lower the pistol.

Looking down, my father put his fingers to the crimson flowing from his pristine, white shirt. When he tried to speak, all that came out were stutters as his grip on his chest tightened.

Neither Spencer nor I could move fast enough to quiet his fall to the Italian marble floors.