The hum of the accounting textbook blurred in Marcus's vision. He sat at the back of Chen's Kitchen, the restaurant quiet after lunch rush, but his mind was 1,100 miles away—Seattle, where Raymond had gone to help his sister. His phone buzzed for the third time in an hour, a text from Sophia: "Raymond's not answering. His sister said he left her house last night and never came back."
Marcus slammed the textbook shut. His mom looked up from folding dumplings, her hands pausing. "What is it, Marcus?"
"Raymond's missing," he said, grabbing his jacket. "Sophia found out his sister's place was broken into. Ledger's gone."
His mom's face paled. "The ledger—Raymond said it was hidden."
"He thought it was. But the syndicate found it." Marcus pulled out his phone, dialing Miller. The agent picked up on the fourth ring, the sound of a busy office in the background.
"Marcus? I was just about to call you. Syndicate activity in Seattle—we got a tip they raided an apartment in Capitol Hill. Raymond's address." Miller's voice dropped. "We think they have the ledger. And we think they have Raymond."
Marcus's throat tightened. The ledger—Chen's entire operation, Raymond's old notes, even clues about Claire's dad's death. If the syndicate had it, they had leverage. Over him, over Claire, over everyone.
"I'm going to Seattle," he said.
Miller hesitated. "It's a trap. They want you to come. To trade you for the ledger."
"I don't have a choice. He's my uncle." Marcus glanced at his mom, who was now standing beside him, her hand on his arm.
"Take this," she said, pressing a envelope into his hand. "Your college savings. For the trip. And be careful."
Marcus hugged her. "I will. I'll call you every day."
He left 20 minutes later, driving to the airport. Sophia met him there, her backpack slung over one shoulder, a stack of files in her hand.
"Miller gave me this," she said, shoving the files at him. "Raymond's sister's statement. The apartment was ransacked—drawers pulled out, furniture flipped. But no blood. They took him alive."
Marcus flipped through the photos: a broken lamp, a scattered deck of cards (Raymond's trick deck), a empty safe where the ledger had been hidden. "They want the ledger for something. Not just to destroy it."
Sophia nodded, checking her phone. "Claire's on her way. She took the next train to Seattle—skipped her morning classes."
Marcus's chest warmed. Claire—always showing up, even when it meant missing law school. He texted her: "I'm at LAX. See you in Seattle."
She replied instantly: "Don't do anything stupid until I get there. I found dad's notes on the ledger—there's a code in it. Syndicate wants it to access Ivan's offshore accounts."
The plane took off an hour later. Marcus stared at the clouds, the files open on his lap. Claire's dad's notes were scribbled in the margins: "Ledger code = 0714—Claire's birthday." He smiled—her dad had hidden the code in something he knew only she'd remember.
When they landed in Seattle, the sky was gray, rain drizzling. Claire was waiting at the airport, her dad's notebook tucked under her arm. She hugged him tight, her coat damp from the rain.
"Raymond's sister is at the police station," she said, pulling away. "We're meeting her there. Miller sent two agents to guard her."
They drove to the station in a rental car. Raymond's sister, Mei, was a small woman with Raymond's sharp eyes. She was sitting in a waiting room, a cup of coffee in her hand.
"He said he was meeting someone," she said, her voice shaking. "A man named 'Jake.' Said Jake knew where the ledger was safe. But he never came back."
Marcus and Claire exchanged a look. Jake—Mr. X, the man who'd helped them with Chen. Had he betrayed Raymond?
"He's not a traitor," Claire said, pulling out her dad's notebook. "Dad wrote that Jake owed him a life debt. He'd never sell Raymond out. Maybe the syndicate got to him too."
Mei nodded, pulling a crumpled note from her pocket. "Raymond left this. Said if he didn't come back, give it to you."
Marcus unfolded it. It was a address—an old warehouse in Tacoma. And a single line: "Ledger's not in the safe. It's in the trick deck. Jake has it."
Sophia's eyes widened. "The deck Raymond gave me? No—wait, he gave me a different one. He must have swapped them."
Marcus's phone buzzed. An anonymous text: "Jake's at the Tacoma warehouse. Syndicate's there too. Hurry."
They left the station, driving to Tacoma. The warehouse was a derelict building on the waterfront, its windows broken, graffiti covering the walls.
"Stay in the car," Marcus said, grabbing a tire iron from the trunk.
Claire shook her head. "No. We go together."
They slipped through the warehouse door. Inside, it was dark, the only light coming from a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. Jake was tied to a chair, his face bloodied. The syndicate's men stood around him—three of them, all with guns.
"Marcus Chen," one said, turning. He was tall, with a tattoo of a wolf on his neck—syndicate muscle. "We've been waiting."
Marcus stepped forward, the tire iron in his hand. "Let Jake go. And Raymond. The ledger's not worth this."
The man laughed. "The ledger's worth everything. Ivan's accounts, Chen's contacts—we're gonna take over LA. And you're gonna help us."
Jake spat blood. "Don't listen to them. The ledger's in the deck—under the ace of spades. They don't have it."
The man hit Jake with his gun. Jake yelled, and Marcus lunged. He swung the tire iron, hitting the man's arm. The gun fell, and Claire grabbed it, pointing it at the other two men.
"Drop your weapons!" she yelled.
They hesitated, then dropped their guns. Marcus cuffed them with zip ties, then cut Jake free.
"Raymond's at a dock in Ballard," Jake said, rubbing his wrists. "They're holding him there. Waiting for you."
Marcus nodded. "We'll get him back."
As they left the warehouse, the anonymous sender's text came again: "Ballard dock. Boat leaves in 30 minutes. They're taking Raymond to Canada."
Marcus looked at Claire. Her face was determined, her dad's notebook in her hand.
Thirty minutes. To save Raymond. To stop the syndicate.
The race was on.