Chapter 12 - FACE TO FACE WITH GREED
The emergency red warning lights bathed the vault in a blood-colored glow.
The siren wailed in rhythmic pulses, drowning out the frantic shouts.
Charles Price slammed his hands against the interior steel face of the vault door.
"Open it! Open this damn door!" Charles roared, his cultured facade completely shattered.
"It's on an automated federal lockdown, Charles," Arthur said calmly from behind the table.
"Once triggered, the time lock cannot be overridden from the inside for thirty minutes."
"Thirty minutes," Julian added, stepping into the center of the room.
His Glock was raised, pointing steadily at the four guards.
"Drop your weapons," Julian ordered.
"You're trapped in a federal vault with the founder of the company. If you fire a single round, the ricochet in this steel room will kill everyone in here, including you."
The four mercenaries looked at each other.
They looked at the solid steel walls.
They looked at Julian’s cold, unblinking eyes.
One by one, they unclipped their holsters and dropped their submachine guns to the floor.
"Cowards!" Vanessa screamed, kicking one of the dropped weapons.
"I’m paying you five hundred thousand dollars each! Pick them up and shoot them!"
The lead guard spat on the floor.
"Money doesn't do us any good if we bleed out in an airless vault, lady."
The guards backed into the corner, raising their hands.
Charles Price turned slowly around.
His tailored suit was soaked in cold sweat.
His silver hair hung in disheveled strands across his forehead.
"Arthur," Charles said, his voice dropping into a desperate, cajoling purr.
"Be reasonable. We've known each other for thirty years."
"You built this company from nothing. I expanded it into a global powerhouse."
"We can share it. Fifty-fifty. We announce you were found suffering from amnesia. The merger goes through, and we both walk away with hundreds of millions."
Arthur looked at him with profound disgust.
"You locked me in a room, Charles."
"You pumped me with drugs until I couldn't remember my own daughter's birthday."
"You sent killers to murder a young woman whose only crime was serving me dinner."
Arthur shook his head slowly.
"You are not a businessman, Charles. You are a thief with expensive cufflinks."
Charles’s eyes narrowed into slits of pure venom.
He reached inside his vest pocket.
"If I’m going down," Charles hissed, pulling out a small black ceramic detonator.
"None of us leave this room alive!"
"C4 plastic explosive," Charles sneered, showing the digital timer set for two minutes.
"I had my men plant two charges on the support columns outside the door. If I press this switch, the ceiling collapses and buries this entire vault under four stories of concrete!"
Vanessa gasped, grabbing her father's arm.
"Dad! What are you doing?! We're in here!"
"Shut up, Vanessa!" Charles screamed, shoving his own daughter to the floor.
"I won't spend the rest of my life in a federal penitentiary!"
He raised his thumb over the red toggle switch.
"Give me the ledger, Arthur! Give it to me, or we all burn right now!"
Nobody moved.
The digital timer on the detonator blinked: 01:45... 01:44...
Julian didn't lower his gun, but his knuckles went white.
A bullet might trigger the man's dying reflex to squeeze the switch.
Mason stepped forward, his face pale, holding his cracked ribs.
"Price," Mason said, his voice trembling slightly.
"You're bluffing."
"Try me, auditor!" Charles screamed, his eyes completely wild with madness.
"You know what I’m capable of!"
I looked at Vanessa on the floor.
I looked at the pearl-handled pistol lying three feet from my shoe.
I looked at Charles Price’s trembling thumb.
I didn't think about my $312 checking account.
I didn't think about rent.
I thought about the man who gave his life's work to build something honest.
I kicked the pearl-handled pistol across the slick granite floor.
It slammed straight into Charles Price’s ankle.
Charles flinched, looking down for a fraction of a second.
That was all the time Julian needed.
Julian closed the distance in two explosive strides.
He grabbed Charles’s wrist, twisting it violently upward.
CRACK.
Charles screamed as his wrist snapped.
The detonator flew from his fingers, arcing through the air.
I dove across the viewing table, catching the small black device in both hands inches before it struck the stone floor.
I hit the disarm button with my thumb.
The red blinking numbers froze at 00:12.
Then the screen went dark.
The vault fell dead silent.
Charles Price was on his knees, clutching his broken wrist, sobbing in agony.
Vanessa huddled against the wall, weeping hysterically into her hands.
Julian stood over Charles, his chest heaving, his dark eyes burning with absolute triumph.
A heavy mechanical clunk echoed through the vault door.
The thirty-minute timer had expired.
The massive steel door slowly swung open.
Standing outside in the bright morning light was a squad of twenty FBI tactical agents with rifles raised, flanked by the United States Attorney for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.
"Charles Price," the lead agent announced, stepping through the doorway with handcuffs ready.
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"You are under arrest for treason, money laundering, kidnapping, and attempted murder."
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