PART 1: THE WEDDING OF BLOOD AND FLOWERS

Chapter 1: The Major General’s Happy Day

Oakwood Estate, the historic mansion in the suburbs of Virginia, was more resplendent today than ever before. Hundreds of cars with red plates and diplomatic plates lined up through the main gate. The atmosphere was solemn yet filled with romance, with thousands of white roses decorating the aisle.

Today was the wedding day of Major General Thomas “Tom” Mitchell – the shining star of the Pentagon, who had just returned from the Middle East battlefield with a Medal of Honor. His bride was Emily Carter, a famous pianist and daughter of an old intellectual family from Boston.

I am Lucas Miller, a detective with the Metropolitan Police Department (MPD) of Washington D.C., but today I was not here as a police officer. I was Tom’s classmate at West Point before I branched off into civilian investigation.

“You look sharp, Lucas,” Tom patted my shoulder, a radiant smile on his resolute face. His full dress uniform with dazzling gold buttons made him look like a god of war at rest.

“Congratulations, Tom,” I raised my champagne glass. “Emily is a wonderful girl. You are the luckiest man today.”

“Thank you. Oh, let me introduce you,” Tom turned to an older man standing next to Emily. He was tall, with silver hair slicked back, exuding an air of elegance and worldly experience. “This is Uncle Arthur Carter, Emily’s biological uncle. He just flew in from Argentina to attend the wedding. He is a very successful wine merchant in South America.”

Arthur smiled, extending a large hand to shake mine. “A pleasure, Detective Miller. Tom has told me a lot about you.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Carter,” I replied, gripping his hand. His hand was rough, calloused, unlike the hand of someone who only held wine glasses. And his eyes… there was something very cold hidden behind that gentle smile. An instinctive alertness made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

The ceremony went smoothly. The vows, the exchange of rings, and the passionate kiss. Everything was perfect, like a fairy tale.

The reception began at sunset. Wine flowed like a river. Arthur Carter, as the representative of the bride’s family (Emily’s parents had died early in an accident), stood on the podium to propose a toast.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Arthur said, his deep voice echoing. “Today, I am the happiest man. My niece has found her harbor…”

He raised his wine glass high. Due to the heat and a bit of drunkenness, Arthur had loosened his tie and rolled up his shirt sleeves slightly.

That very moment changed everything.

Under the brilliant crystal lights, as Arthur’s white shirt sleeve slid down, a tattoo was revealed on the inside of his right wrist.

It wasn’t a normal tattoo. It was an image of a black eagle clutching a globe, but the eagle’s eyes were bleeding bright red.

The wine glass in my hand fell to the floor, shattering. The harsh crash cut off the speech.

I knew that tattoo. I would never forget it as long as I lived.

It was the symbol of Vulture – a transnational criminal organization specializing in nuclear arms trafficking and money laundering that had spread terror across Eastern Europe in the 90s before vanishing without a trace.

And more importantly, it was the tattoo on the hand of the man who killed my father – a CIA deep-cover agent – 20 years ago in Berlin.

Chapter 2: Handcuffs at the Wedding Feast

All eyes turned toward me. Tom frowned, intending to step down to ask if I was okay.

But I didn’t give him that chance.

Instinct overrode reason. I no longer saw the Major General, didn’t see the bride, didn’t see the guests. I only saw the target.

I pulled my Glock 19 (which I was allowed to carry as I was under witness protection for another case) from my waistband.

“Everybody freeze!” I shouted, my voice booming like thunder.

The crowd screamed in panic. Tom’s bodyguards immediately drew their guns, aiming at me.

“Lucas! What the hell are you doing?” Tom roared, rushing to shield Arthur and Emily. “Put the gun down!”

“Tom, move!” I didn’t lower the gun; the barrel was still pointed straight at Arthur Carter’s head. “Ask him who he really is!”

Arthur Carter stood still on the podium, his face unchanging. He slowly lowered his wine glass, looking at me with contemptuous eyes. “You’re drunk, detective.”

“I’m not drunk,” I grit my teeth, stepping closer. “Raise your right hand! Show everyone that tattoo!”

Tom turned to look at Arthur. “Uncle Arthur?”

Arthur sighed, shaking his head. “Just a tattoo from my reckless youth. Tom, does this friend of yours have mental issues?”

“That is the symbol of Vulture!” I shouted. “He is ‘The Alchemist’ – the second-in-command of the organization, in charge of the transport network. Interpol has been hunting him for 20 years!”

The auditorium buzzed. Tom was stunned. He knew about Vulture. Anyone in the military and intelligence knew about that ghost.

“Lucas, are you sure?” Tom asked, voice serious.

“Look into his eyes, Tom! Look at the faint scar running down his neck that he’s trying to hide with his collar! That’s the knife wound my father left before he was shot dead by him!”

Arthur Carter suddenly laughed. A cold, dry laugh that made people shudder.

“Very good, son of Agent Miller,” Arthur said, his tone changing completely. Gone was the gentle look, the fake South American accent vanished, replaced by a thick Russian accent. “I thought after 20 years of plastic surgery and changing my identity, I was safe. Didn’t expect to be discovered by a lowly cop at my niece’s wedding.”

Emily gasped, backing away, hand covering her mouth. “Uncle… what are you saying?”

“Sorry Emily,” Arthur – or The Alchemist – shrugged. “I really do care for you. But business is business.”

Suddenly, Arthur kicked the banquet table hard, sending the giant wedding cake flying toward Tom.

“Run!” I shouted.

Arthur pulled an Uzi submachine gun from the decorative flower bouquet (he had hidden it there!). He sprayed bullets into the ceiling, creating utter chaos. Guests trampled each other to flee.

“Get him!” Tom ordered the security team.

But Arthur didn’t run for the door. He lunged at Emily, grabbing the bride as a hostage, pressing the gun to her temple.

“Back off! Or I’ll blow her head off!” He screamed.

“No! Emily!” Tom shouted, raising his hand to stop the snipers.

“Get me a helicopter! Immediately!” Arthur demanded. “And an armored vehicle at the back door!”

I stood 5 meters away from him, gun still pointed at him. I saw the fear in Emily’s eyes, and the despair in Tom’s. I couldn’t let history repeat itself. I couldn’t let him kill another loved one in front of my eyes.

“Let her go, Alchemist,” I said calmly. “You can’t escape. This building is locked down.”

“I always have an escape route, kid,” he sneered. “I planted bombs in the basement. If I don’t get out in 10 minutes, this entire mansion will turn into dust along with the Major General and all the guests.”

Chapter 3: The Code in the Bouquet

The situation hung by a thread. Tom signaled the soldiers to back down.

“Alright, I’ll give you the helicopter,” Tom said, sweat beading on his forehead. “But don’t hurt her.”

“I don’t trust you, Tom,” Arthur said. “I need a driver. Lucas, you drive!”

He pointed the gun at me.

I slowly lowered my gun, raising both hands. “Okay. I’ll drive.”

We moved to the back door. Arthur dragged Emily backward by her neck, I walked in front, Tom and the special forces team followed at a distance.

Reaching Tom’s parked armored SUV, Arthur pushed Emily into the back seat, he sat next to her, gun still pressed to her head. I sat in the driver’s seat.

“Drive! To the helipad!” He shouted.

I started the engine, the car speeding off into the dark night.

In the car, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense. Emily was sobbing.

“Why did you do this?” She asked through tears. “My father trusted you…”

“Your father was a fool, Emily,” Arthur said coldly. “He discovered I was using the family’s shipping company to move contraband. He intended to call the police. That accident years ago… wasn’t an accident.”

Emily screamed in pain. It turned out, this very uncle had killed her parents.

I looked in the rearview mirror. My blood boiled, but I had to keep a cool head.

“Hey Alchemist,” I spoke up. “You said you planted bombs? Where?”

“You think I’ll tell you?”

“I think you’re lying,” I said, eyes still on the road. “You’ve only been back in the US for 2 days. You didn’t have the time and couldn’t bypass military security systems to plant bombs.”

Arthur sneered. “You’re smart. True, no bombs. But I have something else.”

He pulled a small device looking like a remote control from his jacket pocket.

“This is the remote trigger for 50 Tomahawk missiles sitting in a secret arsenal for which I just hacked the launch codes this morning, thanks to the account of my dear nephew-in-law Tom Mitchell here.”

I was stunned. Turns out his purpose for coming to the wedding wasn’t just to celebrate. He came to access Tom, to steal high-level military access codes. He used the wedding as a cover to pull off the heist of the century.

“If I press this button,” his finger hovered over the red button, “50 missiles will fly straight into the White House and the Pentagon. World War 3 will begin.”

“You’re crazy,” Emily whispered.

“I’m a businessman, niece. War is profit.”

The car arrived at the private helipad. A black helicopter was waiting, rotors spinning. It was his accomplice.

“Stop the car!” He ordered.

I braked hard.

“You and the girl, get out! Walk slowly toward the helicopter!”

We stepped out. The wind from the helicopter rotors blew hard, kicking up dust.

Arthur walked backward, hand still holding the trigger device and the gun. His accomplices from the helicopter poked machine guns out to provide cover.

“Goodbye, happy family,” Arthur laughed, preparing to step onto the aircraft.

But he didn’t expect one thing.

Tom Mitchell wasn’t a desk general.

PART 2: JUSTICE AND TRUTH

Chapter 4: The Shot Through the Night

From the darkness of the woods surrounding the airfield, a sharp crack rang out.

Bang!

Not a handgun. It was a heavy sniper rifle.

The bullet pierced through Arthur’s hand holding the trigger device, shattering it and sending it flying.

“Aaaaaa!” Arthur screamed in pain, falling to his knees.

Immediately, I rushed forward, slamming my shoulder into his chest, knocking him onto the tarmac. The gun in his hand flew away.

The accomplices on the helicopter intended to open fire, but a shoulder-fired missile (RPG) flew out from the woods, hitting the helicopter’s tail. The aircraft wobbled, smoked, and was forced to make an emergency landing on the grass.

Tom Mitchell stepped out of the woods, holding a smoking sniper rifle. Behind him was the Delta Force team.

“No one threatens my wife and my country and gets away with it,” Tom said, his voice icy.

I punched Arthur hard in the face, knocking him unconscious. “That one was for my father.”

Emily ran over, hugging Tom tight. “Tom! Did you know beforehand?”

Tom held his wife, stroking her hair to reassure her. “Lucas sent me a signal. When he said ‘look into his eyes’, I realized that gaze wasn’t of a businessman. And when he mentioned the scar, I secretly ordered Delta team into position.”

I stood up, dusting off my clothes. “You acted pretty well too, Tom. I thought you were going to let him escape.”

“I needed him to lead us to his accomplices and the trigger device,” Tom winked. “And I know you’re a hell of a driver, Lucas.”

Chapter 5: The Underground Network

Arthur Carter – The Alchemist – was arrested. But the case didn’t end there. From the broken trigger device and his testimony (after 48 hours of continuous interrogation by the CIA), a massive criminal network was gradually revealed.

It turned out, Arthur didn’t work alone. He had an insider at the Pentagon. A powerful Senator, who had sponsored Tom’s career, was the one pulling the strings behind the scenes, providing the codes to Arthur.

The case became the biggest political scandal of the decade. Tom Mitchell, although a victim who was used, was also suspended pending investigation. But he had no regrets. He had saved his wife, saved the country from a nuclear disaster.

Emily was in severe shock upon learning the whole truth about her parents’ death and her uncle’s true face. She withdrew from the limelight, taking time to heal her spiritual wounds.

Chapter 6: The End of Silent Heroes

Three months later.

Tom and I sat in a small bar in D.C., where we used to hang out during our school days.

“Have you been reinstated?” I asked, swirling my Bourbon glass.

“Yes,” Tom smiled slightly. “They even planned to promote me. But I refused. I applied for early retirement.”

“What? You’re at the peak of your career!”

“I realized there are things more important than a career, Lucas,” Tom looked out the window, where Emily was waiting for him by the car. She looked more peaceful, a smile returned to her lips. “Emily needs me. We’re moving back to the ranch in Montana. Living a normal life, raising horses and growing grapes.”

“Sounds great,” I raised my glass. “Congratulations, old friend.”

“And you?” Tom asked. “You avenged your father. What do you plan to do next?”

I looked down at the scar on my hand – a wound from Arthur’s arrest.

“I’m a detective, Tom. There are still many other broken-winged vultures out there that need hunting. I won’t stop.”

Tom nodded, patting my shoulder. “Be careful.”

He stood up, walking out to the car with Emily. I watched them, feeling a sense of relief in my heart.

“The Eagle’s Claw” case was closed. The wicked were punished. The good found peace. And I, though still alone on the path of justice, knew I wasn’t truly alone. My father, somewhere up there, was surely smiling.

I drained the glass, left money on the table, and walked out of the bar. The Washington D.C. night was cold, but inside me, a fire burned. A new case was waiting.

THE END