Chapter 11 - A Mother's Vengeance
"He took my father's diary," Claire breathed, the air turning sharp in her lungs. "Why would he risk a federal escape charge for a journal?"
"Because the diary contains the ciphers," Evelyn Vance said, her composure finally showing cracks. "Thomas didn't just record his thoughts in that book, Claire. Your father was an old-school engineer. He recorded security combinations, private vault numbers, and the master override codes for Bennett Foundry’s primary automated metallurgical patents."
"Those patents are worth fifty million dollars to foreign buyers," Harrison added, his fingers flying across his keyboard as he attempted to track Daniel's mobile signature. "If Daniel sells the schematics to the Chinese consortium he was meeting with last month, the Bennett Foundry will be worthless by tomorrow morning."
Eleanor was dragged out of the guest bedroom by two deputies, screaming obscenities as handcuffs were finally clamped around her wrists for resisting an officer and destruction of property. She had deliberately smashed three antique porcelain vases on her way out.
"Where is he going, Eleanor?!" Claire yelled, stepping directly into the path of the frantic woman. "Tell me where Daniel is meeting them!"
Eleanor spat on the floor, her makeup smeared with sweat and tears, her high-society facade completely shattered into the gutter. "You think you won, you little ingrate?! Daniel was ten steps ahead of your father ten years ago! Thomas was too weak to expand the business, so Daniel did what was necessary! You and your pathetic mother will be begging on the street when Daniel’s plane leaves Teterboro tonight!"
"Teterboro Airport," Claire whispered.
Agent Miller turned to the radio. "All units, alert Port Authority and New Jersey State Police. Suspect is en route to Teterboro Airport. Target is private aviation charter hangars."
Margaret walked up beside Claire, placing a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. For the first time in years, the frail, beaten woman looked completely fearless.
"He won't make it to Teterboro, Claire," Margaret said quietly.
Claire looked at her mother in surprise. "Mom? What do you know?"
Margaret reached into her cardigan pocket and pulled out a small, metallic object. It was a sleek, black key fob bearing the crest of a Bentley Continental GT—the very car Daniel kept parked in the private underground garage space reserved for Penthouse 12A.
"When I was scrubbing Eleanor’s bathroom this morning," Margaret said, her voice steady and deliberate, "I heard Daniel on the terrace talking on his encrypted satellite phone. He told someone that if things went bad tonight, his passport and the secondary access drive were stashed in the spare tire compartment of the Bentley. So while Eleanor was screaming at the caterers at five o'clock... I took the elevator down to the basement."
Margaret placed the key fob into Claire’s palm, along with a small, red plastic valve.
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"What is this, Mom?" Claire asked.
"That," Margaret said with a cold, triumphant smile, "is the master fuel cut-off switch for the vehicle's electronic injection system. My father was a mechanic before he bought the foundry, Claire. He taught me how engines work before he taught me how to sew. Daniel can start the car, but he won't make it three blocks past the garage gate before the fuel line seals shut."
