Chapter 12 - Caught in the Act
The basement was cold and silent, smelling of damp concrete and old storage boxes. Julian ran toward the back of the room, past the boiler and the furnace, until he reached the heavy copper water heater.
There, on the wall behind the tank, was a small, square metal plate.
Julian pulled the plate away, revealing a modern, digital keypad safe built into the concrete foundation. His eyes lit up with pure, unadulterated greed.
"0-8-2-4," he muttered, his shaking finger pressing the buttons.
The safe beeped once, a green light flashing on the display. With a soft click, the heavy door swung open.
Julian lunged forward, reaching his hand inside the dark cavity. His fingers brushed against something hard and plastic, but there was no cash. No paper bills. No bearer bonds.
His hand pulled out a small, black plastic tracking device with a single, blinking red LED light.
Beside it lay a small piece of paper with a handwritten message in my neat, elegant script:
Good luck, Julian.
Before Julian could process the shock, the entire basement was flooded with a blinding, white-hot light.
"Federal agents! Drop on the floor and put your hands behind your head!" a voice roared through a megaphone from the top of the stairs.
Julian shrieked, dropping the tracker as a dozen heavily armed FBI agents in tactical gear poured down the stairs, their red laser sights painting his chest in a spiderweb of light.
"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" Julian screamed, falling to his knees, his hands raised in surrender.
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From behind the armed guards, Agent Robert Vance stepped forward, a pair of heavy steel handcuffs in his hand. He looked down at Julian with a mixture of disgust and cold satisfaction.
"Julian Vance, you are under arrest for federal wire fraud, grand larceny, and felony breaking and entering," Agent Vance said. "Welcome home."
