Chapter 19 - The Price of Silence
Before Daniel could reach for his satellite phone, the heavy subterranean air of the vault was torn apart by the sound of suppressed gunfire echoing from the upper elevators.
Henri de Montfort snapped his head toward the entrance. “The surface security! They’ve breached the outer perimeter!”
“How did they find this facility?” Emma shouted, scooping Lily into her arms and pulling her deeper into the vault chamber.
“They didn't have to find it,” de Montfort said bitterly, rushing toward a steel terminal beside the pedestal. “The St. Clair Syndicate has owned the local municipal police commission for three decades! They only needed confirmation that Julian’s daughter had accessed the master ledger!”
De Montfort slammed his hand onto an emergency lockdown switch. Massive titanium security grilles dropped across the corridor with a deafening clang, sealing the vault off from the outer hallways.
Through the security monitors mounted above the terminal, Emma watched in horror as a tactical squad clad in unmarked black uniforms advanced down the hallway. Leading them was a tall, silver-haired man in an immaculate charcoal overcoat, holding an encrypted radio.
Beside him walked Judge Sterling.
Sterling looked directly into the security camera, raising his phone to his ear. A second later, the internal emergency comm line inside the vault chimed.
Daniel punched the speaker button, his fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. “Sterling, you traitorous bastard!”
Sterling’s voice came through the speaker, utterly devoid of the grandfatherly warmth he had feigned back in New York.
“Save your breath, Daniel,” Sterling said smoothly. “Arthur was a fool who thought he could outrun his obligations. Julian Vance took billions from our syndicate to build his commercial empire, and then he thought he could wipe the slate clean by hiding behind an infant girl.”
“You murdered Julian,” Emma said through gritted teeth, her voice echoing through the intercom. “And you used Margaret to watch over me like a hawk for thirty years.”
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“Margaret was an idiot who thought she was competing for an inheritance,” Sterling scoffed. “She never knew what was really at stake. Now, Emma... open the inner grille. Hand over the data drives. Do that, and you and your daughter can walk out of this country alive. Refuse... and this vault becomes your mausoleum.”
***
