Chapter 5 - The Descent into the Vaults
The chaos inside the warehouse erupted with the precision of a well-oiled machine. Julian's men moved through the lower level like shadows, disarming and neutralizing Vane's guards with silent efficiency before the opposing syndicate members even had time to fully raise their firearms.
Julian himself walked straight toward the heavy steel staircase leading up to the second-level offices, ignoring the scrambling thugs who tried to block his path. A single backhand from Julian sent the first enforcer crashing into a stack of empty crates, while Viktor—who had briefly left the car in trusted hands—cleared the remaining flank with cold, methodical strikes.
On the catwalk, Marcus Vane’s smug expression vanished, replaced by sudden, frantic panic. He fumbled for his holster, but before his fingers could wrap around the grip of his pistol, Julian vaulted up the final steps, grabbed Vane by the lapels of his jacket, and slammed him against the reinforced glass railing with a force that rattled the entire structure.
"Where is she?" Julian demanded, his voice dangerously low, vibrating with an ancient, suppressed rage.
"You're... you're insane," Vane sputtered, gasping for breath as Julian's iron grip constricted around his throat. "She's just a worker! She doesn't mean anything to you!"
"Wrong answer," Julian murmured.
With a swift, brutal twist, Julian dragged Vane toward the open service elevator at the back of the catwalk—the freight lift leading down to the underground holding cells where the syndicate kept its contraband and captives.
"Open it," Julian commanded, pressing the barrel of Vane's own confiscated weapon firmly against the side of his head.
Shaking with terror, Vane punched the digital code into the keypad with a trembling thumb. The heavy iron gate slid open with a screech of rusty cables, revealing a dark, damp concrete shaft descending deep into the bedrock beneath the Detroit River.
As they stepped into the elevator cage and dropped into the freezing subterranean depths, the air grew thick with the smell of damp earth and rust. When the cage finally hit the bottom, the doors opened to reveal a narrow corridor lined with iron-barred holding cells.
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At the very end of the hall, in cell number four, a small, flickering light illuminated a figure slumped against the concrete wall.
"Naomi," Julian whispered.
