Chapter 12 - The Race Against the Timer
The dial tone hummed monotonously through the office speaker, a mechanical reminder of the cruel trap closing in around them. Clara stood motionless for three seconds, letting the shock wash over her before her mind snapped back into sharp, calculating focus.
"He's heading to a private airfield outside city limits," Clara said, grabbing her car keys from the desk and turning sharply toward the door. "Forty-five minutes means we don't have time to wait for city police escort."
Marcus stepped forward, gripping the heavy iron wrench tighter in his hand. "I'm coming with you, Clara. You're not walking into a downtown financial vault alone at midnight while some psychopath is playing games with your family's life."
"Me too," Thomas chimed in, quickly grabbing his laptop bag and tossing his jacket over his shoulders. "I can hack the building’s secondary maintenance keypad from my tablet if the main security system is locked down."
Clara looked at the two men, feeling a brief surge of profound gratitude. Despite the chaos and betrayal of the day, she wasn't entirely alone.
"Let's move," Clara commanded.
Within five minutes, they were speeding through the rain-slicked downtown streets in Marcus’s battered pickup truck, weaving expertly through sparse midnight traffic. The glowing dashboard clock ticked relentlessly downward: 38:12... 38:11... 38:10...
Clara sat in the passenger seat, the heavy white tulle of her wedding gown bunched up around her knees, her eyes fixed on her phone as she mapped out the underground access route to the Federal Reserve vault district.
"Turn left on 4th Street," Clara instructed, leaning forward as the towering stone facade of the Federal Reserve building loomed into view through the rain-streaked windshield.
The plaza surrounding the imposing classical architecture was entirely deserted, save for a single black sedan parked illegally right beside the grand front steps. The engine was running, its exhaust piping white steam into the cool night air.
Marcus slammed on the brakes, pulling the pickup truck into a shadowed loading bay fifty yards away from the sedan. "That's not a police cruiser. That's one of Julian's extraction vehicles."
Clara narrowed her eyes, scanning the dark perimeter. "He didn't just leave a timer on the phone call, Thomas. He sent someone here ahead of us to break into the vault first."
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"If they get to the physical ledger before we do, all our leverage is gone," Thomas said, his fingers flying anxiously across his tablet screen as he connected to the building's local maintenance network. "Give me two minutes. I can override the
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