Chapter 10 - The Ambush at the Door
David froze mid-stride, the heavy steel crowbar feeling suddenly useless in his sweating palm. A cold muzzle pressed firmly against the base of his skull, right where his neck met his spine.
"Drop the iron, hero," a raspy, unfamiliar voice growled quietly against his ear. "Drop it right now, or I turn your brains into wallpaper."
David didn't hesitate. He let go of the crowbar, letting it crash heavily against the concrete floor with a loud, metallic clatter that echoed through the cavernous silo. Inside, the voices stopped abruptly.
The heavy sliding door beside them was shoved open wider by a heavy, calloused hand, and Vance stepped out into the dim light of the loading bay, a sinister grin plastered across his face. Marcus peeked out from behind him, his eyes going wide with sheer terror when he saw his older brother standing unarmed against the wall.
"Well, well, well," Vance purred, walking slowly toward David with his hands tucked casually into his trouser pockets. "Look what the river washed in. The rightful heir himself."
Marcus stepped out into the open air, shaking his head frantically. "David, I swear I didn't want it to come to this! It was just supposed to be a paper transaction—"
"Shut your mouth, Marcus," Vance snapped without breaking eye contact with David. He gestured to the heavy-set man holding the gun to the back of David’s head. "Search him, Bruno. Make sure he doesn't have a wire or a recording device."
Bruno roughly patted David down, sliding his hands over David's shoulders, chest, and pockets with brutal efficiency. He pulled David's smartphone out of his jacket pocket and tossed it casually across the concrete floor. The screen shattered into a spiderweb of glowing cracks as it hit the hard ground, though the call indicator continued to flash rhythmically in the dark.
Vance walked over, picked up the broken phone, and crushed it beneath the heel of his expensive leather shoe with a satisfying crunch.
"That's a shame," Vance mocked, shaking his head. "Modern technology is so fragile these days. Just like family bonds, wouldn't you say, David?"
David stared coldly at Vance, refusing to give the developer the satisfaction of seeing him break. "You're trespassing on private property, Vance. And you're aiding and abetting a felony theft."
Vance laughed out loud, a harsh, grating sound that echoed off the rusted iron walls of the silo. "Property ownership is a fluid concept, my friend. Especially when the courts are backed up for six months and the local judges play golf at my country club."
Inside the car parked fifty yards away, Arthur sat staring through the foggy windshield. The sedan's engine was idling quietly, but the glowing dashboard clock showed that ten full minutes had passed since David walked away toward the silo.
In the passenger seat, Elena finally turned her head to look at the old man, her green eyes wide with sudden panic. "Arthur," she whispered, her voice trembling uncontrollably. "He's been gone too long. Something is wrong."
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Arthur didn't answer. He reached down to the floorboard, grabbed the heavy tire iron resting beneath the passenger seat, and pushed his door open into the damp harbor air.
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