He closed his laptop. The woman in the raincoat was gone from the security feed. But his phone buzzed one last time.
Finn had a choice. Feed the answer. Keep the money. Stay safe.
The rain hadn’t stopped for three days. Not the gentle coastal drizzle the locals joked about, but a hard, slanting downpour that turned the IJsselmeer into a slab of hammered lead. Inside the cramped office of Vaarbewijs4all, the world had shrunk to the glow of two monitors and the ticking of a radiator that hadn't worked since the '90s.
“Good choice, captain. Now run.”
Then Finn’s screen flickered.
Finn’s throat went dry. Van der Heijden was babbling about a crossing situation question. Finn ignored him.
The silence on the line was absolute.
“Mr. de Vries. Your little fleet of ghost candidates is about to run aground. I’m not from the CBR. I’m from the people Van der Heijden’s trucks are carrying. The ones not listed on any manifest. Turn off your mic. Let him fail. And we forget this conversation happened.”
“Take the real exam next week,” Finn said. “You might surprise yourself.”
Van der Heijden’s mouse clicked. Next question. And the next. Twelve minutes in, the CEO was almost laughing with relief.
Finn grabbed his coat, Lars’s photo, and a thumb drive with every transaction, every client, every backdoor he’d ever built. Outside, the rain had finally stopped. The IJsselmeer was still as glass.
“Someone who knows that a man who cheats for a living still has a conscience. Prove me right, captain. Or prove me wrong—but I promise, your son’s school fees won’t be your biggest problem tomorrow.”