Chapter 12
The heavy iron door of the vault slammed shut with a deafening clang as Arthur threw his full weight against the locking mechanism, spinning the circular dial three full rotations to the right. Muffled shouts and the sound of heavy fists hammering against the steel echoed from the other side, but the thick vault walls muffled the noise into a dull, rhythmic thud.
Elena stood by the metal desk, her breathing steady, her white cane reassembled and resting firmly against the floor. “That will hold them for maybe twenty minutes. The hydraulic seals on these older vaults can be overridden from the security console in the east wing.”
Arthur turned away from the door, his face slick with sweat, his dark suit jacket torn at the shoulder where the guard had grabbed him. He didn’t look shaken; instead, his eyes burned with a fierce, calculating intensity. “The east wing console requires a dual-authorization biometric scan. Sterling doesn’t have your mother’s clearance, but my brother does.”
“Which means he’s already heading there,” Elena said, striding toward the spiral staircase leading out of the subterranean level. Her cane tapped a rapid, urgent rhythm against the metal steps. Tap-tap-tap-tap.
“We take the service elevator,” Arthur commanded, catching up to her and pressing the emergency override panel on the wall. The hidden panel slid open, revealing a vertical shaft plunging into darkness. “It bypasses the main security grid entirely.”
They stepped into the cramped metal car. Arthur slammed the control lever downward, and the elevator surged upward with a sudden, stomach-churning acceleration. The metallic screech of the cables filled the small space as they rocketed past floors four, five, and six.
“Father,” Elena said quietly, staring at the digital countdown clock glowing red on the wall of the elevator shaft. 11:42 PM. “When we reach the east wing, Sterling’s men won’t just be waiting at the console. They’ll have locked down the external communication relays.”
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Arthur pulled a heavy black revolver from a concealed holster beneath his arm, checking the cylinder with a practiced, fluid motion. “They can lock down the local relays all they want. But they forgot about the satellite uplink hidden in the old greenhouse.”
The elevator jolted to a sudden, violent halt. The overhead light flickered once, twice, and then died completely, plunging them into absolute, pitch-black darkness.
