Chapter 6 - The Tactical Maneuver
The cold metal of the tactical handcuffs bit into David’s wrists as the armed men shoved him further into the center of the vault. Chloe rushed forward, but Marcus intercepted her with a single, firm hand on her shoulder, pushing her back against the glass display cabinet with effortless strength.
“Don't make this harder than it already is, Chloe,” Marcus warned, his expression impassive.
David stumbled, regaining his balance near the mahogany desk where Arthur Vance sat watching the scene unfold with quiet amusement. David glared at the older man, his jaw clenched so tightly a muscle twitched in his cheek.
“You promised to let her go if I gave you the digital encryption keys to the offshore accounts,” David spat, his voice trembling with suppressed rage.
Arthur picked up a silver letter opener from his desk, turning it over slowly in his fingers as he admired the way the overhead light gleamed off the metal edge. “I promised to consider her safety, David. In the Vance family, a promise is only as good as the leverage behind it. And right now, your sister brought the missing piece of the puzzle right to our doorstep.”
Chloe struggled against Marcus’s grip, her eyes darting frantically around the room for an escape route, a weapon, anything. Her gaze landed on the glass display case directly behind Marcus. Inside sat a heavy, antique bronze paperweight shaped like a roaring lion.
“You think you’ve won,” Chloe said, pitching her voice to sound defiant while her heart hammered wildly against her ribs. “You think locking us down here in the dark keeps your secrets safe. But the world outside knows I’m here. I left a dead-man’s switch on my server. If I don't check in by midnight, everything goes public.”
Arthur paused, the letter opener hovering just an inch above the mahogany surface. He slowly raised his gaze, fixing his cold, calculating eyes on Chloe. A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face.
“A dead-man’s switch,” Arthur repeated, tasting the words as if they were a fine wine. He looked over at Marcus. “Did you check her phone before you brought her down from the gallery?”
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Marcus frowned, his hand slipping slightly from Chloe’s shoulder as he reached into his own pocket to retrieve the silver smartphone he had confiscated from her coat pocket upstairs. He pressed the screen, but instead of the home screen, a stark red countdown timer glared back at them with exactly four minutes and twelve seconds remaining.
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