Chapter 6 - The Summit of Deception
"You really are a persistent nuisance, Cole," Vance said, his voice cold and steady despite the screaming storm outside the broken windows.
Vance stepped into the room, the emergency light casting deep shadows across his face. He wasn't breathing heavily; he had taken the private express elevator before the auxiliary power had cut out completely, knowing the emergency manual keys would grant him access to the higher levels before anyone else could react.
"It was you," Andrew said, stepping back toward the teak desk, keeping his body between Vance and the window opening behind them. "You tampered with the fleet seals, you stole the maintenance funds, and you poisoned Daniel Kane."
Vance gave a harsh, humorless laugh that was instantly swallowed by the roar of the wind.
"Daniel was a dreamer," Vance said, adjusting his grip on the heavy iron bar. "He thought corporate ethics actually meant something. He was going to turn over five years of financial data to the federal authorities—data that would have put me and three major board members in prison for the rest of our lives."
"And Emma?" Andrew demanded, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his heavy steel tactical flashlight. "She's eight years old. You kept her terrified in her own home!"
"The child was an unforeseen complication," Vance said, taking a slow step forward. "I didn't know how much Daniel had told her until she stopped speaking entirely. But when I saw you sewing that useless toy, I knew she had passed something to you. Give me the jacket, Andrew. You have a son to think about. Don't die for a billionaire's broken family."
Andrew thought of Leo. He thought of his promise: I’ll come home before breakfast.
"My son knows his father is an honest man," Andrew said softly. "I'm not giving you a damn thing."
Vance lunged.
He swung the heavy crowbar in a wide, lethal arc toward Andrew’s head. Andrew ducked instinctively, the steel bar whistling inches above his hair and smashing into the teak desk with a shower of wood splinters.
Andrew drove his shoulder into Vance’s midsection, tackling the larger man against the wall. They crashed into a row of metal filing cabinets, sending folders and loose papers cascading through the storm-swept air.
Vance swung his elbow back, catching Andrew sharply across the jaw. Pain exploded behind Andrew’s eyes, and he tasted copper in his mouth. He fell backward onto the slick carpet, the breath knocked from his lungs.
Vance stood over him, raising the iron bar with both hands, his face twisted in desperate rage.
"This ends now!" Vance yelled, bringing the bar down toward Andrew’s chest.
Andrew rolled sharply to his left. The crowbar slammed into the floorboards where he had been a second before.
Using the momentum of his roll, Andrew swung his heavy steel flashlight with all his strength, striking Vance across the side of his knee.
A sickening snap echoed through the room, followed by a scream of agony from Vance. The executive collapsed to his knees, dropping the crowbar as his leg gave out beneath him.
Andrew scrambled to his feet, panting heavily, his jaw throbbing. He picked up the iron crowbar and threw it far out through the shattered window into the dark, stormy void outside.
He looked down at Vance, who was clutching his broken knee, groaning in pain on the wet floor.
"The fire department is on their way up," Andrew said, breathing hard. "And the whole world is about to find out what you did."
Andrew turned and ran out of the study, heading back into the smoky corridor toward the stairwell.
May you like
Behind him, Vance’s desperate curses were lost in the howling gale.
Andrew pushed through the heavy fire doors and began his long, rapid descent back down forty-seven flights of concrete stairs, holding the heavy jacket tight against his chest, protecting the truth that would finally free a little girl from her prison of silence.
