Chapter 11
The torrent of water roared through the subterranean channel, sweeping away the corporate barricade and leaving the path ahead completely clear. Marcus grabbed Arthur by the shoulder, helping the elderly man navigate the slippery, water-slicked concrete as they sprinted through the breach toward the old municipal service ladder.
Above them, a heavy iron manhole cover cast a pale circle of early morning grey light against the dark ceiling. City Hall was just overhead.
Marcus slammed his broad shoulders against the underside of the manhole cover, shoving it upward with a mighty heave. The heavy iron lid clattered onto the cobblestone street above as cool, damp dawn air rushed into the shaft.
“Up you go, Mr. Vance,” Marcus urged, boosting the elderly man through the opening with practiced efficiency.
Arthur emerged onto the empty, quiet plaza surrounding the grand neoclassical columns of City Hall. The morning sky was painted in bruised shades of purple and gold, signaling that dawn had officially arrived. Across the vast stone plaza, the magnificent bronze doors of the municipal building stood tall and imposing.
Marcus hoisted himself out of the manhole, brushing soot and water from his dark uniform. He scanned the plaza anxiously. “The zoning commissioner’s executive chambers are on the third floor. If Julian’s legal team got word to the board overnight, they might have already filed the expedited demolition permits electronically.”
“Electronic filings require physical verification signatures from the primary corporate founder to clear urban heritage zones,” Arthur explained, his breathing steady despite the grueling climb. “That is why we hold the winning card.”
They hurried across the open plaza, their footsteps echoing sharply against the grand stone steps. As they approached the heavy bronze entrance, the massive glass doors swung open from the inside, and a frazzled municipal clerk in a sharp grey suit stepped out onto the landing, holding a thick stack of papers.
“Excuse me, sir! The building is closed to the public until eight o'clock,” the clerk announced, holding up a hand as he rushed toward a waiting taxi parked at the curb.
Arthur stepped directly into the clerk’s path, standing tall and unwavering. The lapel pin on his brown leather jacket flashed once with a brilliant, undeniable green light in the morning sun.
“I am Arthur Vance,” the old man stated with absolute authority. “And I am here to file an emergency injunction against the demolition of the historic downtown residential district.”
The clerk stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes darting from Arthur’s weathered face down to the pulsing emerald pin. The color drained from the young man’s face as he recognized the historic insignia of the city’s founding corporate architect.
May you like
“Mr. Vance… the board meeting starts in twenty minutes inside Conference Room B,” the clerk stammered nervously. “If you file that injunction after the gavel drops, it won't legally matter.”
Marcus stepped beside Arthur, his gaze fixed on the double doors. “Then lead us to Conference Room B right now.”
