Chapter 7 – The Twelve Seats
Chapter 7 – The Twelve Seats
The digital clock on the wall read 4:17 P.M.
No one in the FBI forensic lab moved.
The words on the screen seemed impossible to ignore.
Upon confirmation that Evelyn Grace Carter is alive, the Twelfth Seat shall immediately become active.
All surviving members must assemble within seventy-two hours.
Agent Michael Harris slowly folded his arms.
"So it's true."
Benjamin Lawson looked at him.
"You've heard of the Twelve Seats?"
Harris nodded.
"Only as rumors."
"For twenty years, every intelligence agency I've worked with has encountered whispers about an organization that doesn't officially exist."
He pointed at the document.
"We never knew what it was called."
"Now we do."
Emily stared at the screen.
"I don't understand."
"Why would they want me?"
Lawson took a slow breath.
"Because according to this document..."
"...you don't merely belong to the Consortium."
He hesitated.
"You legally own one of its twelve governing seats."
Emily almost laughed.
"This has to be a mistake."
"I've worked two part-time jobs just to pay rent."
"I've skipped meals."
"I've worried about buying textbooks."
"How could I own anything?"
Lawson's expression was filled with sympathy.
"Because Richard Bennett made sure you never knew."
Agent Harris walked to a whiteboard.
He drew a circle.
Then divided it into twelve equal sections.
"Twelve founding families."
"Twelve votes."
"Twelve fortunes."
"Twelve private archives."
"Twelve successors."
He looked at Emily.
"According to your father's recording..."
"Your grandfather controlled the Twelfth Seat."
Emily frowned.
"So after he died..."
"It should have gone to my father."
Harris nodded.
"And after your father..."
"...to you."
Professor Hughes looked confused.
"But if Emily inherited this seat..."
"Why kidnap her?"
Lawson answered quietly.
"Because an infant can't exercise legal authority."
He paused.
"But a missing infant..."
"...creates opportunity."
Everyone understood.
Richard Bennett hadn't kidnapped Emily because he wanted another daughter.
He had stolen her...
To steal an empire.
An FBI financial analyst hurried into the room.
"Agent Harris."
"What is it?"
"We finished tracing Bennett Global Holdings."
"And?"
The analyst placed several reports on the table.
"Richard Bennett's wealth exploded almost immediately after Evelyn disappeared."
He projected a graph onto the wall.
The numbers were shocking.
Before Emily vanished—
Richard's net worth:
$11 million
One year later—
$240 million
Five years later—
$1.8 billion
Today—
Over $23 billion.
Emily stared at the graph.
"My entire life..."
"...was built on stolen money."
Lawson nodded slowly.
"It appears so."
Just then another agent entered carrying a sealed evidence box.
"We catalogued everything recovered from Richard Bennett's private vault."
Emily frowned.
"I thought the FBI already searched it."
"We did."
"But this compartment was hidden behind the main safe."
The agent opened the box.
Inside were old photographs.
Gold watches.
A revolver.
Several passports.
And—
A tiny wooden music box.
Emily's breathing stopped.
The music box.
Daniel had mentioned it.
Lawson carefully lifted it from the box.
"It looks handmade."
Emily stared at it.
Something about it felt familiar.
Not remembered...
Familiar.
Like hearing a song she'd forgotten years ago.
She reached toward it.
The moment her fingers touched the wood—
A strange feeling rushed through her.
A memory.
A lullaby.
A woman's voice singing softly.
Someone rocking her to sleep.
Emily gasped.
"I know this song..."
Professor Hughes whispered,
"You remember?"
"I..."
Emily closed her eyes.
"It's blurry."
"But I've heard it before."
Lawson gently wound the tiny key.
The music box began playing.
A delicate melody filled the room.
Everyone listened.
Then—
Click.
Nothing happened.
Emily frowned.
"That's it?"
Lawson examined the inside.
"No."
"The mechanism stopped halfway."
The FBI evidence technician took the box.
"This isn't broken."
He smiled.
"It's locked."
Emily looked confused.
"A music box with a lock?"
The technician nodded.
"Someone modified it."
He carefully examined the carvings.
Then suddenly stopped.
"There."
Tiny symbols had been carved underneath the lid.
Three musical notes.
A star.
And the number...
12
The technician pressed the symbols in sequence.
Nothing.
Emily remembered the lullaby.
Without thinking...
She softly hummed the melody Daniel had played in the recording.
The music box clicked.
Everyone froze.
A hidden compartment slowly slid open.
Inside was a brass key.
No larger than a finger.
Attached to it was a tiny silver tag engraved with three words.
Safety Deposit 1207
Lawson looked at Harris.
"A bank."
Harris nodded.
"But which one?"
Another folded piece of paper lay beneath the key.
Emily unfolded it.
One sentence.
In Daniel Carter's handwriting.
Only Evelyn may open what waits inside. Trust no signature except your own.
Agent Harris immediately contacted the financial crimes division.
"Find every bank with a deposit box numbered 1207 connected to Daniel Carter."
The analyst nodded and hurried away.
Meanwhile...
Across Chicago...
Deep beneath a federal detention center...
Richard Bennett sat alone inside an interrogation room.
His expensive suit had been replaced with a plain gray prison uniform.
The door opened.
Richard looked up.
A woman entered.
She wasn't an FBI agent.
She wasn't wearing a badge.
She wore an elegant black suit.
Mid-fifties.
Silver hair.
Calm eyes.
She placed a leather folder on the table.
"Good evening, Richard."
Richard's face went pale.
"You..."
She smiled politely.
"I warned you twenty-two years ago."
"You should have killed the child."
Richard swallowed.
"You said she would never be found."
The woman looked disappointed.
"I also said never underestimate Daniel Carter."
Richard leaned forward.
"What happens now?"
The woman calmly opened the folder.
Inside was only one page.
Across the top—
PHOENIX CONSORTIUM
Below it—
Emergency Vote
She slid it across the table.
"You've been unanimously removed."
Richard's breathing became uneven.
"You can't."
"I built half this organization."
She smiled coldly.
"No."
"You merely managed its money."
Richard whispered,
"What about Evelyn?"
The woman stood.
"That is no longer your concern."
She walked toward the door.
Then stopped.
Without turning around, she said,
"You served your purpose."
The lights suddenly went out.
Richard heard footsteps.
Not one person.
Several.
When the emergency lights flickered back on—
Three masked figures were standing inside the interrogation room.
Richard's eyes widened in horror.
"No..."
One of them quietly pulled a silenced pistol from beneath his coat.
Another placed a sealed envelope on the table.
Across the front was written:
TRAITORS ARE NEVER RETIRED.
The detention center alarms suddenly blared throughout the building.
Red emergency lights flashed in every corridor.
Guards began shouting.
Someone screamed.
Gunfire echoed in the distance.
At the FBI headquarters...
Every emergency phone rang simultaneously.
An agent answered.
His face immediately changed.
He looked toward Harris.
"Sir..."
"What happened?"
"The federal detention center is under attack."
Everyone in the room stood.
"The attackers..."
"They're not trying to free Richard Bennett."
Harris frowned.
"What are they after?"
The agent swallowed.
"They're trying to make sure..."
"...Richard Bennett never speaks again."
Emily felt ice run through her veins.
Because if Richard died...
May you like
He would take twenty-two years of unanswered questions with him.
End of Chapter 7
