Mystery and Crime Fiction posted March 17, 2025 Chapters:  ...55 56 -57- 58 


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The Pursuit
A chapter in the book Veil of Secrets

Veil of Secrets - THE END

by Begin Again


 
 
A night owl by trait, Jack reclined his seat and stared out the window at the indigo sky. He couldn't help but let his mind wander through the many avenues his life had taken. Some brought him power, others wealth, but none of them had held so much meaning than the time he'd spent helping return Maggie to her family — a family he'd considered his own ever since the first night he'd met her.

Across the aisle, Garth's seat was fully reclined, his Stetson pulled low over his face. To anyone watching, he looked asleep — but he wasn't. His mind was on one thing — Zhang. Getting him in cuffs and dragging him through Heathrow to lockup. Finally, seeing him pay. He couldn't imagine a better ending.

He shifted slightly, reaching for his phone. It was 2:15 AM. That meant Zhang's plane — the other Boeing jet — would be touching down at Heathrow in about five hours. Give or take.

Not soon enough as long as he was there waiting.

Jack promised they would arrive in three hours, giving them time to set things up with the Metropolitan Police and give Zhang the welcoming committee he wasn't expecting.

Garth searched his contacts until he saw her name — Charlotte Morgan, Inspector. It had been a while since he'd last spoken to Charlie, but the memories were all intact, which made him wonder what kind of reception he would get from her.

He pushed the call button and waited. The phone rang twice before a familiar British voice answered, already exasperated. "Oh, for God's sake, Garth. Do you ever call at a reasonable hour, or is this just a personal vendetta against my sleep?"

Garth half-smirked, rubbing his temple. "Good to hear your voice too, Charlie."

She sighed, but he caught the amusement behind it. "Go on, then. Let's hear it. What kind of catastrophe am I walking into this time?"

Garth glanced at his watch. "Zhang's airborne. Lands at Heathrow in under four hours and forty-two minutes. I need him stopped the second he steps off that plane."

Charlie paused and her next words followed a slow, dramatic exhale. "You never do give me time to plan, do you?"

Garth chuckled the first real one in hours. "You always were good under pressure."

"Oh, don't sweet-talk me, cowboy. You'll need a full armed response team at the gate."

"I want eyes on him the second that bloody door opens," Garth said, his voice low but firm. "He's not stepping past that jet bridge."

Silence.

When Charlie spoke again, her tone had shifted — quieter now, more serious. "You think he's gonna run?"

Garth let out a slow breath. "If I were him? I would. And maybe — just maybe — he'll give me the pleasure of putting him down."

Another pause. This time, heavier.

Charlie's voice lost its usual sarcasm. "You sure about that?"

"Yeah." Garth's fingers clenched into a fist. "I've been chasing this bastard too long to get it wrong."

Charlie let out a slow breath. Then her voice turned back to business. "You won't get near the jet bridge with that attitude." She focused on what needed to be done and said, "I'll have my people waiting at the gate. He won't get past us." She paused. "And Garth, I much prefer we did it without gunfire."

Garth nodded, even though she couldn't see him."Thanks, Charlie."

She let out a small chuckle. "Oh, don't thank me yet. You still owe me a drink."

"Get in line."

Charlie laughed. "Bloody hell, Garth. You really are a pain in my arse."
 
The line went dead.

Garth stared out at the sky beyond the jet window. His jaw tight. Zhang thought he was walking into a new life of freedom. He had no idea what was waiting for him.

Jack waited a few minutes to let Garth collect his thoughts and let the inspector's words settle in. When he did speak, his voice was as smooth as ever. "Damn shame, cowboy."

Garth didn't look up. He just stared out the window, fingers flexing against his thigh.

Jack smirked. "You want to shoot him, don't you?"

Garth's jaw ticked, but he didn't answer.

Jack let out a low chuckle, stretching out in his seat. "Course you do. A man like that walks free too many times, ruins too many lives — you wanna put him down like the rabid dog he is."

Garth finally spoke, voice low and tight. "Like it or not, as an FBI agent, I know that's not how the law works."

Jack lifted a brow, swirling the drink in his hand. "Right. But it's how justice works."

Garth's head snapped toward him, eyes dark.

Jack didn't flinch. "Tell me, cowboy — if Zhang made a run for it? If he accidentally tripped and, I don't know, fell right into a bullet? Would you really lose sleep over it?"

Garth's fingers clenched into fists.

Jack grinned, watching him. "Ah. Thought so." He leaned forward, voice quieter, more serious. "But that's not who you are, Garth."

Garth's breathing slowed, but he still didn't look away.

Jack sighed, sitting back. "Me? I'd put a bullet in him the second his feet touched the ground. No regrets. But you? You'd carry it."

Garth cleared his throat but remained silent.

Jack watched him for another long beat, then smirked. "Damn shame, though." He lifted his glass. "To doing things the right way."

Garth exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "Screw you, Jack."

Jack laughed. "You love me."

Garth didn't answer. He just stared out the window and waited for Heathrow.

*****
The Boeing jetliners' wheels touched Heathrow's runway. Zhang sat in his seat, minus his disguise. In his dark tailored suit, he now appeared as a traveling businessman. The man walking off this plane wouldn't resemble a fugitive.

He turned on his phone and dialed a number. The line clicked.

A voice answered, low and impatient. "You've got a welcoming committee."

Zhang's lips curled. He couldn't see the gate yet. "Is it insurmountable?"

"That's a tough one. Depends on how clever you are."

"We've got the decoy. That might give me an opening."

"It's your life. You make the call."

Zhang hesitated and then asked, "Where are you?"

The voice responded. "Upholding my duty, I guess. "I'm here. If you make it, the car is waiting."

"If?" For the first time, sweat beads covered his forehead. "That doesn't sound too promising, so I guess I do it my way." He paused and then muttered, "Thanks." The line went dead.

*****

Zhang remained motionless as the plane rolled toward the terminal, the gentle hum of the engines vibrating beneath his fingertips. Around him, passengers shifted in their seats, stretching, reaching for bags tucked beneath their feet. A few murmured to each other, already half-lost in their own thoughts, eager to disembark and move on with their day.

He watched none of them. Instead, his gaze drifted to the window.
Outside, beyond the thick glass, they were waiting.

A wall of Metropolitan Police stood positioned at the jet bridge, their formation tight, professional.

Zhang's mouth curled at the irony. They thought this was over. His eyes moved past the rows of officers, past the camera crews, and past the airport staff, who were keeping their distance.

And then — his gaze settled on the figure standing just in front of the barricade. He recognized the Stetson and knew somehow Garth had managed to beat him here. His body was rigid, his arms crossed, and his facial expression radiated anger.

Zhang exhaled slowly, steadying his breathing. There was no rush now. He already knew how this would end.

He shifted slightly in his seat, his hand brushing over the fabric of his coat. His fingers found the tiny capsule tucked neatly inside his sleeve. He smiled at the parting gift he was about to leave for the FBI Agent. He was ready to claim victory.

Casually, he turned his head, glancing toward the man seated two rows ahead. The decoy.

The man was still in position — his head lowered, his shoulders slightly hunched. He wore the same dark coat and baseball cap Zhang had worn when he boarded. Even the wheelchair was the final touch. The detail meant to slow security just enough.

Zhang's smirk barely flickered. He eagerly awaited Garth's reaction.

*****
Garth stood just beyond the secured area, his shoulders rigid and tense. The air wasn't cold, but his body held that coiled-tight feeling of a man ready for a fight — a bullfighter entering the arena against the bull. This was it.

He had chased this bastard through three continents, across borders, through hell and back. And now, there was nowhere left for Zhang to run.

The first passengers started trickling through the jet bridge, filing out in slow-moving waves: a mother holding her child, a businessman balancing his carry-on, and a phone call. Then, a new figure emerged through the jet bridge's glass doors. The dark coat. The baseball cap. The wheelchair.
Garth stiffened. His eyes locked onto the man.

The police reacted instantly — officers surging forward, cameras flashing, tension crackling in the air. And then Garth saw it. The man in the wheelchair wasn't looking at him. He wasn't looking at anyone. His body language was stiff, unsure. He wasn't Zhang.

Garth took a sharp step forward, pulling the baseball cap from his head as his voice cut through the tension. "That's not him."

The police hesitated. The crowd murmured. The man in the wheelchair looked up — his face confused, startled. Garth's gut twisted.

Zhang had thought out everything, even sending a decoy. The realization hit like a sledgehammer — the perfect misdirection — just enough hesitation and distraction.

And then he saw movement behind the decoy.

Garth's head snapped up just in time to see another figure stepping onto the jet bridge and walking with no disguise. No wheelchair. No hesitation. It was Zhang.

For the first time, Zhang was bare. No mask, no false posture. Just him, the self-assured man he was. And he wasn't afraid. He showed no evident sign of fear.

His gaze met Garth's, locking onto him like only the two of them were standing in that terminal. No cameras. No officers. No guns. Just the two of them.

The corners of Zhang's mouth lifted ever so slightly.

The bastard was smiling. Garth's chest tightened. His breath hitched.
Zhang lifted his hand, his fingers brushing against his lips in an easy, almost lazy motion.

The smallest act — but Garth knew. His boots hit the ground, his body surging forward.

But Zhang was already moving. One step. A breath. And then his knees buckled. His body folded in on itself, collapsing to the ground. Zhang's body shook with convulsion one right after the other.

Garth shoved past officers, his voice hoarse and raw. "NO-O —O!" But he was too late. He skidded to a stop, his heart pounding, rage and disbelief coiling in his gut. He had been so sure that this was the end — his win.

Zhang should have stood trial. Should have faced justice. Should have rotted away in a cell for every single life he had ruined. But no. Zhang wrote his own ending.

Garth grabbed the front of Zhang's jacket, clutching it with all his might. He screamed, "Don't you die on me."
 
And the last thing Garth saw was that faint, dying smirk as Zhang whispered, "I win!" and took his last breath.

Garth was still kneeling beside him, fists clenched. He barely heard Charlie bark orders to her team. His vision tunneled to the body in front of him.
This wasn't how it was supposed to end. All the chasing, all the near-misses, all the lives Zhang had destroyed, and he stole the winning hand.

Garth's jaw tightened. Instead, of a cell, he was lying there, smug even in death. Garth swore under his breath, his mind struggling to process how he'd been so close — and still lost.

Meanwhile, Jack wasn't looking at Zhang. That part was over.

He stood a few steps back, hands in his pockets, scanning everything else. The crowd. The movement. The details no one else was paying attention to.
Sometimes, the real story wasn't what everyone was looking at. It was in what they missed.

Jack's eyes scanned the people beyond the security detail. Zhang had been too relaxed. He had expected someone to be waiting to whisk him away to freedom. Jack wanted to know who that someone was.

And that's when he saw him. A man in a Metropolitan Police coat stood at the fringe of the commotion.

He wasn't gawking like the rest. He wasn't shocked. He didn't have a gun in his hand. He was watching and waiting.

And the second Zhang collapsed — he moved. No hesitation. No reaction. Just a quick, clean exit.

Jack's brows furrowed. He pushed off the pillar, slipping into the foot traffic, tracking the guy's movements. This man wasn't new to this type of action. His movement was too smooth. Too damn practiced.

The man didn't rush, didn't shove past anyone. He walked out the doors into the blinding noon sunlight as if taking a stroll in the park.

Jack followed.

As soon as he stepped outside, his eyes locked on a black sedan idling at the curb. The guy slid into the back seat like it had been waiting for him. The door shut, firm but unhurried.

With his passenger secured, the driver glanced once in the mirror before merging into Heathrow's crawling midday traffic.

Jack didn't bother moving. Just stood there, hands on his hips, watching as the sedan slipped into the congestion, swallowed up by the flow of taxis and buses.

He let out a slow breath, flicked his cigarette to the pavement, and muttered, "Well, Cowboy, something tells me this story isn't over."
 
 
 
 
I thank everyone who has continued to follow the story, and I hope enjoyed it. I have an epilogue to follow, and then we will close the cover of another book in the series. Smiles and hugs, Carol
 

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Current Characters -Bayside's Community --
Jenna Bennett - Event planner, Eleanor's daughter, Maggie's mother, Donatelli's love
Matthew Donatelli - Bayside's lead detective and Maggie's father
Garth Woodman - FBI Agent and widower (Allie) and interested in Rebecca
Rebecca Cascio Stillwell - recently inherited the Vineyard after discovering her adoption
Joseph DeLuca - Bayside detective
John Doyle - Ex-judge, nemesis to all, and deceased
Vince Rossi - mobster and Doyle's cellmate and now witness protection
Judge Alex Garland - the man trying to step into John Doyles corrupt shoes
Rosalie Jarvis - a lawyer currently on Zhang's payroll
Nathaniel Devereaux - International Art Dealer
Criminals - Good and Bad
Zhang Wei - once involved in human trafficking with Doyle, seeks revenge for his career losses after Doyle's downfall from the Judge's bench.
Frank DiVito - retired gangster and childhood friend of Garth
Sam - Frankie's right-hand man and friend
Jack Lexington - Chicago kingpin
Danny Veraci -a dear friend from the past and casino owner
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