Chapter 12 - The Unlikely Driver in the Shadows
The window of the idling utility van rolled down with a soft mechanical whir, revealing the weathered, sharp features of an elderly man wearing a faded security uniform. It was old Thomas, the penthouse building’s head night watchman who had supposedly retired under mysterious circumstances three years prior—right around the time Julian’s financial empire was expanding aggressively.
“Get in before Marcus reaches the bottom of the stairwell,” Thomas said, his voice raspy and gravelly, carrying an absolute authority that brooked no argument.
Julian didn't hesitate. He pulled the sliding side door of the van open, practically lifting Clara and the sleeping child inside before climbing in after them. Eleanor slid across the worn vinyl bench seat, her gold satin dress gathering dust as she stared incredulously at the old watchman in the front seat.
“Thomas?” Eleanor breathed, her eyes wide. “You disappeared the night my father’s company was liquidated. Julian told me you took a severance package and moved abroad.”
Thomas glanced back through the rearview mirror, his eyes meeting Eleanor’s with a mixture of profound sorrow and grim resolve. “Your husband’s definition of a severance package was keeping me hidden in a safe house upstate, Mrs. Vance. Julian bought my silence, but he never bought my soul. I’m the one who kept the original backup ledgers before Marcus’s associates could burn them.”
Before Eleanor could process the staggering implication, the heavy metal door of the stairwell burst open with a resounding crash. Marcus emerged into the parking garage, his pistol raised, his eyes scanning the dim rows of vehicles until they locked directly onto the side of the utility van.
“Thomas, you old traitor!” Marcus roared, raising his weapon and firing a deafening shot that shattered the passenger-side wing mirror of the van.
Thomas slammed his foot down on the accelerator. The heavy van surged forward with a squeal of rubber, throwing gravel and dust into the air as it rocketed toward the subterranean exit ramp. Marcus fired a second shot, the bullet pinging harmlessly off the reinforced rear quarter-panel of the vehicle before plunging into the shadows.
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Eleanor clutched the edge of the seat, her heart hammering against her ribs as the van accelerated up the ramp toward the blinding daylight of the city streets above.
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