Chapter 40 - The Severed Allegiance
"Marcus, drop the carbine," Julianne commanded, stepping forward with a remote detonator in her left hand. "We wired the tunnel supports behind you with four blocks of C4. You take one shot, and I bring thirty tons of limestone and the Chicago River down on your heads."
Marcus didn't lower his weapon. His eyes shifted toward Nicholas, calculating the angles, waiting for the signal.
"Julianne," I called out, stepping from behind Nicholas’s shoulder. My voice was steady, surprising even myself. The fear that had paralyzed me all night had burned away, leaving behind a cold, absolute clarity. "You were Eleanor’s shadow for twenty years. You served her, you took her abuse, you cleaned up her messes. And now you're wagging your tail for Elena? The woman who wasn't even Arthur's child?"
Julianne’s eyes flared with anger. "Shut your mouth, little girl."
"Eleanor told us before she died," I continued, taking a slow step forward, keeping my hands visible. "Elena isn't Arthur's heir. She's the bastard of a cartel boss Arthur had killed. Arthur hated her. And he hated you."
"Lies!" Julianne shrieked. "Eleanor was a lying, manipulative snake!"
"And what is Elena?" I challenged, locking eyes with my so-called sister-in-law. "Do you think she’s going to share that throne with you, Julianne? The moment this tunnel is sealed, you become the only person left who knows the truth about Arthur's line. Do you really think you're walking out of here alive?"
For a fraction of a second, Julianne’s eyes darted toward Elena. A flicker of doubt—microscopic, but fatal.
Elena saw it.
Without a word, without a moment of hesitation, Elena turned her weapon and fired two rounds into Julianne’s chest.
*BANG. BANG.*
Julianne’s eyes went wide with shock. She staggered backward, looking down at the red blossoms spreading across her silk blouse, before collapsing against the damp gravel of the tracks. The detonator tumbled from her fingers, splashing into a puddle.
"Loose ends," Elena said simply, turning her smoking barrel back toward us. "She was always so exhausting."
In that split second of betrayal, Nicholas and Marcus opened fire.
The tunnel erupted into a deafening roar of muzzle flashes and ricocheting lead.
"Clara! The control bunker! GO!" Nicholas yelled, tackling me behind the rusted wheel trucks of the abandoned coal car as a hail of automatic fire chewed through the iron siding above our heads.
Marcus dropped to one knee, laying down a devastating volley of suppressive fire with his carbine, dropping two of Elena’s operatives instantly.
Nicholas grabbed my face with both hands, his eyes burning with frantic urgency. "Listen to me! Behind that iron bulkhead is the terminal! Take the braid! Insert the platinum wire into the master port and press your thumb to the glass! It will initiate the Covenant Clause! Do not wait for me! Do you understand?!"
"Nicholas, I’m not leaving you!" I cried, gripping his tactical vest.
"You have to!" He pulled the severed braid from his pocket and shoved it into my hands. The cold platinum wire bit into my palm. "You're the only one who can end this, Clara! Now RUN!"
He shoved me toward the heavy iron bulkhead door five yards away.
Bullets sparked wildly against the rails at my feet. I threw myself against the iron door, hitting the manual release lever with all my body weight. The heavy steel door swung inward with a groaning screech.
Behind me, I heard a terrible sound—a muffled grunt of pain from Nicholas, followed by the heavy thud of Marcus's body hitting the gravel.
"Nicholas!" I screamed, looking back through the narrowing gap.
Marcus lay motionless in the mud, blood pooling beneath his head.
Nicholas was on his knees, clutching his shoulder where a bullet had torn through his collarbone, his weapon empty, the slide locked back.
Elena walked slowly toward him through the gunsmoke, stepping over the corpses of her men, her gun leveled at his forehead.
"You were always the weak one, brother," Elena purred, raising her foot and kicking Nicholas brutally in the ribs, sending him sprawling into the gravel.
She turned her gaze toward me.
Our eyes locked through the three-inch gap of the closing bulkhead door.
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"Run all you want, Clara," Elena called out, her voice echoing with chilling certainty. "There are no exits down here. You just locked yourself in your own tomb."
The heavy steel door slammed shut with a deafening *CLANG*, the magnetic locks engaging with a heavy hydraulic hiss.
