Chapter 14 - The Capitol Depository
The underground archives of the state capitol smelled of ancient paper, mold, and polished brass. Rows upon rows of towering metal shelving units stretched out into the dim shadows, lit only by flickering fluorescent tubes overhead. Julian and Arthur moved silently between the stacks, their footsteps muffled by the thick rubber flooring.
According to the architectural schematics Marcus had transmitted before his signal dropped, the secure historical depository was located behind a heavy steel fire door at the end of the main corridor.
As they rounded the final corner, the beam of Julian’s flashlight caught a chilling sight.
The heavy steel door of the depository had already been forced open. A portable industrial drill and a set of heavy-duty plasma cutting torches lay discarded on the floor, still radiating faint wisps of blue smoke.
Julian drew his breath sharply, gripping a heavy metal pipe he had picked up from a maintenance cart. He crept forward, peering cautiously around the heavy iron doorframe into the dimly lit vault interior.
Standing in the center of the vault, illuminated by the beam of a tactical flashlight, was a man in an expensive gray Brioni suit, methodically pulling thick leather-bound ledgers off the shelves and tossing them into a roaring portable incinerator barrel set up right in the middle of the room.
It was Senator Thomas Vance, Julian’s estranged uncle and Beatrice’s primary political co-conspirator.
“It’s over, Thomas,” Julian’s voice echoed off the stone walls like a gunshot, ringing through the cavernous vault.
Senator Vance stopped mid-motion. He slowly turned around, wiping soot from his manicured hands, a cold, arrogant smile spreading across his face as he looked at his nephew and Arthur.
“Julian. And the ghost of Arthur Vance,” the Senator laughed darkly, stepping away from the incinerator barrel. “I must admit, I thought the fire in Maine took care of both of you permanently. Beatrice was always too incompetent to finish a job.”
“You’re burning the evidence of thirty years of corruption,” Arthur snarled, taking a threatening step forward into the room. “It won’t save you, Thomas. The federal marshals have copies of the digital backups.”
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“Do they?” Senator Vance chuckled softly, reaching inside his jacket and pulling out a heavy, gold-plated revolver, leveling it directly at Julian’s chest. “By the time federal backup arrives, this entire building will be classified as a secure state emergency zone. And you two will simply be remembered as desperate trespassers who tried to burn down the state archives.”
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