Chapter 26: The Gold Scam Unravels
Frank burst through the garage door at 6 AM, actually sober and genuinely panicked.
"We're fucked," he announced. "Completely, absolutely fucked."
Ben had been awake all night, doom-scrolling news about the Gary pawn shop incident, waiting for this exact moment. "How bad?"
"Worse than bad. Biblical plague bad." Frank pulled out a crumpled newspaper, hands shaking. "Pawn shops in Indiana, Wisconsin, Illinois—they're comparing notes. Someone noticed a pattern: identical jewelry purchased from two guys matching our descriptions, all of it transforming into garbage. They're calling it the biggest fraud scheme in Midwest history."
Ben's Danger Intuition had been screaming since he saw the news alert. Now it reached deafening pitch. "Police?"
"Detectives. Asking questions in South Side, showing our descriptions to shop owners, piecing together a timeline." Frank's fear was palpable, real in a way Ben had never seen. "This isn't Marcus's protection racket or local cops we can bullshit. This is federal fraud, organized crime charges, the kind of heat that ends with us in Leavenworth."
Ben's MacGyver Mind immediately began calculating exposure: twelve sales over three weeks, total merchandise value approaching three hundred thousand dollars. Dozens of witnesses who could identify them. Paper trails from transportation, from Frank's contacts, from the rental car used for the Gary trip. Pattern recognition software probably linking everything together.
They'd been so careful about the actual frauds. So careless about everything else.
"What do we do?" Ben asked.
"Disappear the evidence. All of it. Right now."
They worked with paranoid intensity for six hours.
Every transaction record burned in the barrel behind the garage. Ben's photographs of jewelry—deleted from his phone, the cloud, anywhere digital. His workshop setup dismantled, tools cleaned of any trace evidence his MacGyver Mind suggested might exist.
Frank used his criminal experience to muddy timelines. Created fake repair logs backdated to explain Ben's income. Established alibis through his network of drunks who'd swear they saw Ben working locally during the fraud dates.
Ben used his MacGyver Mind to wipe digital traces. Reformatted devices. Created false data trails suggesting someone else had used his identity. It was sophisticated criminology guided by supernatural understanding of systems.
But it felt inadequate against determined federal investigation.
Kevin appeared at noon, took one look at their frantic activity, and said, "How bad?"
"Bad," Ben admitted. "Remember that jewelry? It's become a problem."
"Jesus." Kevin didn't ask for details. Just started helping—carrying items to burn, providing alibis, using his position at the Alibi to spread strategic misinformation about timelines.
They staged a burglary to explain missing inventory. Kevin helped them break Ben's own lock, scatter tools, make it look like someone had stolen merchandise. A police report was filed—theft of valuable materials, creating official documentation that Ben had been a victim rather than perpetrator.
The irony wasn't lost on Ben: using police reports to hide from police investigation.
By 3 PM, they'd sanitized everything they could identify. But Ben's Danger Intuition still screamed warnings about things they'd missed, connections they couldn't erase, patterns computers would recognize even after human evidence was destroyed.
Kevin left eventually, extracting a promise that Ben would tell him if things got worse. Frank stayed, sitting among the ashes of their burned evidence, drinking for the first time that day.
"I've been thinking," Frank said carefully.
Ben's Danger Intuition spiked. "About what?"
"About how this plays out. If they catch us." Frank took a long drink. "If they catch one of us, would you take the fall? Keep heat off the other?"
The question hung in the air like poison gas.
Ben understood immediately what Frank was really asking: Would you go to prison so my kids don't lose both parents?
"You're thinking about throwing me under the bus," Ben said flatly.
"Thinking. Not doing." Frank wouldn't meet his eyes. "But yeah. I've got six kids. You've got... what? A garage and some friends you've known three months? If someone has to take the fall—"
"We both go down if we turn on each other," Ben interrupted. His Silver Tongue activated desperately, showing him arguments, leverage, ways to keep Frank from betraying him. "You testify against me, I testify against you. Mutual destruction. But together? We've got alibis, destroyed evidence, and enough reasonable doubt to maybe avoid charges."
"Maybe isn't certainty."
"Neither is betraying me. You think investigators will just let you walk if you hand me over? They'll squeeze you for every detail, use you until you're wrung dry, then charge you anyway because that's what prosecutors do."
Frank processed this, calculation evident in his expression. Ben watched him weigh options: loyalty versus self-preservation, the bond they'd built versus the family he needed to protect.
"We stick together," Frank said finally. "For now."
The "for now" felt like a death sentence with delayed execution.
"For now," Ben agreed, knowing that Frank's loyalty had a shelf life measured in days or hours depending on how much pressure investigators applied.
After Frank left, Ben sat alone in his garage surrounded by the ashes of destroyed evidence and felt the walls closing in.
His illusion power had created perfect crimes until the illusions failed. Now the evidence trail led directly to him, and no amount of cleanup could erase what federal investigators with pattern recognition software would eventually piece together.
"I bought temporary stability through fraud. Paid Marcus with fake money. Used illusion to solve problems I couldn't handle legitimately. And now the bill comes due."
The temporary nature of his power—the fundamental flaw he'd known about from the start—would destroy him.
Jewelry reverting to rocks. Money becoming paper. Documents dissolving into blank sheets. Every fraud he'd committed left behind confused victims who'd eventually compare notes and realize they'd all been hit by the same impossible scam.
And Frank, the only person who knew the truth about Ben's abilities, was currently calculating whether betraying him was the smart move.
Ben lay on his mattress that night staring at ceiling and feeling inevitability closing in. The gold scam had worked perfectly until it didn't. Now he faced federal fraud charges, a partner considering betrayal, and the knowledge that his powers' greatest strength—temporary perfection—was also their fatal weakness.
Fiona had chosen him. Ian was alive. He'd helped people, built a community, earned trust and respect.
And all of it was about to collapse because he'd committed fraud to survive, and temporary illusions always, inevitably, became permanent evidence.
Sleep didn't come. Just paranoid awareness of every sound, every shadow, every possibility that tomorrow would bring federal agents instead of customers.
The investigation was coming. Frank's betrayal was probable. And Ben's time as Lucky Ben was running out fast.
Author's Note / Promotion:
Your Reviews and Power Stones are the best way to show support. They help me know what you're enjoying and bring in new readers!
Can't wait for the next chapter of [ Arrowverse: The Survivor's ]?
You don't have to. Get instant access to more content by supporting me on Patreon. I have three options so you can pick how far ahead you want to be:
🪙 Silver Tier ($6): Read 10 chapters ahead of the public site.
👑 Gold Tier ($9): Get 15-20 chapters ahead of the public site.
💎 Platinum Tier ($15): The ultimate experience. Get new chapters the second I finish them (20+ chapters ahead!). No waiting for weekly drops, just pure, instant access.
Your support helps me write more .
👉 Find it all at patreon.com/fanficwriter1