Chapter 13 - The Final Stand The digital timer on the explosive device hit 00:30… 00:29…
Panic reached a fever pitch in the vault. Richard scrambled toward the spiral staircase, clawing at the metal steps like a trapped animal, screaming curses at the ceiling. Clara curled into a fetal position beside a stack of old currency bags, sobbing hysterically as she realized her wealth, her status, and her wedding dress were all about to be reduced to ash.
Marcus threw his entire weight against the massive hydraulic door, a futile effort to force the titanium seal. “Julianna, the timer! We’re out of time!”
Julianna didn’t move. She stood near the center of the vault, holding her mother’s legacy files against her chest, her eyes fixed on the heavy steel door.
Suddenly, a loud, high-pitched mechanical whine echoed through the walls. The red LED light on the explosive device flickered, stuttered, and then abruptly turned a steady, glowing green.
The digital timer froze at 00:03.
A heavy pneumatic hiss filled the room as the massive hydraulic locks on the vault door began to disengage, slowly swinging the three-foot-thick steel slab outward.
Fresh, cool air rushed into the subterranean chamber, carrying the sounds of sirens, flashing blue lights, and shouted orders from dozens of federal agents flooding the lobby above.
Silhouetted in the bright doorway stood a phalanx of armed federal marshals, led not by David Vance, but by a high-ranking Department of Justice official flanked by two armed agents.
“Drop your weapons and step away from the perimeter!” the lead marshal shouted, sweeping his rifle across the room.
Richard scrambled toward the door, throwing his hands up in the air. “Thank God! Arrest her! She’s the one who locked us in! She’s the criminal!”
The marshal didn’t look at Richard. He stepped past him, walking directly toward Julianna, and offered a crisp, respectful nod.
“Julianna Sterling?” the marshal asked formally.
“Present,” Julianna replied, her voice steady and clear.
“We have an active warrant for the immediate arrest of David Vance, Arthur Vance, and all active associates of the Serpent Guild,” the marshal announced, holding out a pair of silver handcuffs not for Julianna, but for the men hiding upstairs. “Your broadcast reached the Attorney General’s desk ten minutes ago. The board room has been secured.”
Richard stopped dead in his tracks, his jaw dropping in utter incomprehension. “What? No! That’s impossible! We own this city!”
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Before the marshal could answer, heavy footsteps echoed from the stairs behind them, and David Vance was shoved into the vault in handcuffs, his expensive navy suit rumpled, his face bruised and contorted in sheer rage.
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