Chapter 7 - The Bullet That Missed
The sharp crack of the gunshot deafened Julian momentarily, but the bullet didn't strike him. Instead, Director Richard Vance screamed in agony, dropping his weapon as blood spurted from his right shoulder onto the charred white carpet.
Julian scrambled backward through the debris, coughing violently as the heavy smoke filled his lungs. He looked toward the service doorway where the flash had originated. Standing there, holding a smoking revolver with steady hands, was Arthur Pendelton, the aging attorney looking more like an executioner than a legal counsel.
"You missed, Arthur," Richard snarled, clutching his bleeding shoulder with his left hand as he stumbled backward against the altar. "You always were a mediocre shot."
Arthur stepped forward into the dim emergency lighting, his face carved from stone. "I didn't miss, Richard. I chose a non-lethal spot because the federal marshals are already downstairs clearing the lobby."
Clara crawled out from beneath a collapsed table, her designer gown shredded and blackened with soot. She dragged herself toward Richard, clutching at his trouser leg like a drowning victim. "Uncle Richard, tell them! Tell them you forced me to do it! You said if I didn't marry Julian and hand over the necklace, you'd release the medical records about my mother!"
Richard kicked Clara away with a brutal, callous motion, his face twisted in utter contempt. "You pathetic little fool. You were always just a disposable chess piece."
Julian stood up slowly, leaning heavily against a marble pillar for support. He still held the silver crest necklace in his bleeding hand, the metal now warm against his skin. He looked at Clara, then at his uncle, and finally toward the shadows where Elena had vanished moments before.
"Ten years," Julian said, his voice dangerously quiet as he aimed his revolver squarely at his uncle’s chest. "Ten years of mourning, ten years of guilt, while you played God with my entire family."
Richard laughed, a wet, bloody sound. "You think you've won, Julian? Look at the necklace in your hand. Check the back plate."
Julian frowned. With trembling fingers, he turned the silver crest over in his palm. A tiny seam ran along the edge of the metal. Pressing his thumbnail into the groove, a hidden micro-compartment popped open, revealing a tiny, glowing flash drive.
"What is this?" Julian demanded.
May you like
Richard smiled grimly. "That’s the encryption key to every offshore account the Vance family owns. And right now, it’s broadcasting your exact GPS coordinates to an elite black-ops hit squad currently surrounding this hotel."
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