Chapter 11 - Breach at Midnight
The heavy oak front doors of the Vance mansion hung slightly ajar, splintered around the reinforced deadbolt where a tactical battering ram had clearly done its work. Julian slipped out of the town car, motioning for Frank to stay with the engine running.
"If I'm not back out in twenty minutes, take the backup ledger from the glove box straight to federal authorities," Julian instructed quietly.
"Mr. Vance, you can't go in there alone. There are at least four armed men inside," Frank warned, reaching for his own jacket pocket.
"I know my home better than anyone," Julian said, his eyes fixed on the dark threshold. "Stay put."
Julian melted through the splintered doorway into the cavernous grand foyer. The crystal chandelier overhead was turned off, casting long, eerie shadows across the sweeping double staircase and the rows of ancestral portraits lining the wood-paneled walls. The house was dead silent except for the rhythmic pounding of rain against the stained-glass dome ceiling and the distant, muffled sound of heavy machinery drilling through reinforced concrete upstairs.
They were in his uncle’s study on the second floor, working on the floor safe.
Julian moved with absolute stealth, stepping lightly across the Persian rugs until he reached the base of the grand staircase. He ascended step by step, avoiding the third and fifth floorboards which always creaked under pressure.
As he reached the second-floor landing, the sound of an electric core drill whining through stone grew deafeningly loud. A thin plume of white masonry dust drifted out from under the heavy mahogany double doors of his uncle's study.
Julian crept down the hallway, pressing his back against the cool wood paneling until he reached the cracked study door. He peered inside through the narrow gap.
Richard Vance stood by the massive mahogany desk, directing two burly men in tactical gear who were kneeling on the Persian rug, operating a heavy industrial drill against the reinforced floor paneling where the concealed safe was embedded. Marcus Sterling stood near the bookshelf, nervously checking his wristwatch every few seconds.
"Faster!" Richard snapped, his voice tight with impatience. "The local sheriff's department received an anonymous disturbance call from the gala thirty minutes ago. We have ten minutes before patrol cars sweep this coastline."
One of the drill operators pulled back the smoking diamond-bit drill head with a loud hiss, wiping sweat from his forehead. "The core plate is breached, Mr. Vance. We're through to the inner chamber."
Richard smiled triumphantly, stepping forward and kneeling down beside the smoking hole in the floor. He reached his hand into the dark recess of the safe, his fingers groping around inside before closing triumphantly around a thick, leather-bound cylinder tied with a faded red silk ribbon.
"Got it," Richard whispered, pulling the original 1974 trust charter into the light.
May you like
Julian stepped out from the shadows of the doorway, his voice cutting through the hum of the cooling drill like ice. "Put it back, Richard."
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