Chapter 5: The Code Breaker
"Federal agents! Open the door!" a muffled voice shouted through the reinforced steel barrier.
The electronic keypad on the wall flashed a rapid, warning amber as an override signal pulsed through the circuit board. Alistair abandoned his post by Maya and dove across the room toward Clara’s body, his hand clawing frantically at the bloody floorboards.
"Maya, jam the secondary bolt!" Alistair barked over his shoulder, his fingers searching blindly beneath Clara’s stiffening fingers for the silver recorder.
Maya stood paralyzed for a fraction of a second, torn between her lifelong conditioning to obey her father and the terrifying reality of the crimes piling up around her. The pounding on the door intensified, accompanied by the distinct whine of a pneumatic breaching tool charging up in the hallway.
"Maya! Now!" Alistair roared, his fingers finally brushing against the cold metal of the voice recorder just as Agent Miller’s voice echoed through the intercom speaker.
Julian used the distraction to throw his entire body weight sideways, utilizing the heavy concrete block encasing his hands as a makeshift lever against the metal autopsy table. The bolts grooved into the stainless steel gave a sharp ping, shifting half an inch to the left.
"I see you through the thermal optic, Dr. Vance," Agent Miller’s amplified voice boomed from the ceiling speaker. "Step away from the victims with your hands visible!"
Maya looked at Julian, her eyes locking onto his with a desperate, unspoken plea for salvation. She saw the blood dripping from his wrists, saw the quiet determination in his gaze, and realized that her father’s empire was built entirely on sand.
Instead of jamming the secondary bolt, Maya lunged toward the wall locker, spun the combination dial with practiced precision, and yanked the heavy steel door open.
Alistair froze, the voice recorder clutched tightly in his fist. He slowly turned his head, his face contorting into an expression of utter betrayal. "Maya... what are you doing?"
"Ending this," Maya whispered, her voice steady for the first time all evening.
Instead of grabbing the industrial chisel to free Julian, Maya reached inside the locker and pulled out a heavy-duty flare gun, pointing the barrel straight at her father’s chest.
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"Put the recorder down, dad. And drop the scalpel," Maya ordered, her finger trembling slightly against the trigger.
Before Alistair could calculate his next move, the exterior security door exploded inward in a shower of sparks and shattered steel as the federal breach team finally blew the hinges.
