Chapter 6 - Trapped in the Vault
The air inside the vault suddenly felt heavy, suffocating. The thick steel walls insulated them from the chaos outside, leaving only the sound of Vincent and Tony's heavy breathing.
"The bastard set us up," Tony growled, slamming his fist against the reinforced door. "The manager must have tipped off the Marcones the second we contacted him."
Vincent didn't panic. Panic was a luxury for the weak. He walked around the perimeter of the vault, examining the ventilation shafts and the heavy structural pillars. "They won't leave us here to suffocate, Tony. They want the ledger. If they leave us to die inside, the vault stays locked until the board overrides it, and they lose the evidence. They’re going to open that door when they have enough backup to kill us and take the bag."
"So we wait?" Tony asked, checking his ammunition.
"No. We prepare."
Vincent looked up at the ceiling. A standard commercial ventilation duct ran along the top corner. It was too small for a grown man, but it housed the main electrical conduit for the vault's locking mechanism.
"Give me your knife," Vincent ordered.
For the next twenty minutes, working in near-total silence, Vincent unscrewed the vent cover and reached deep into the wiring harness. Using his knowledge of building systems—garnered from years of controlling construction contracts—he isolated the primary emergency release wire.
"When I short this circuit, the door will automatically cycle open on an emergency failsafe," Vincent explained, his face glistening with sweat. "They will be waiting on the other side. You take the left side of the frame. I take the right. We don't stop shooting until the hallway is clear."
"Understood, Boss."
Vincent stripped the wires with his teeth, braced himself, and shoved the bare coppers together.
Sparks flew. The lights inside the vault flickered and died, plunging them into darkness. A second later, a loud, hydraulic groan echoed through the steel. The massive door began to slide open, letting in a sliver of light from the outer hallway.
"Now!" Vincent shouted.
They burst out of the vault into a hail of gunfire. Bullets chipped the marble pillars, sending deadly shards of stone flying through the air. Vincent dropped to one knee, firing three rapid shots. A Marcone soldier fell, clutching his chest. Tony moved like a hurricane, flanking the remaining shooters near the elevator bank.
Within two minutes, the hallway was silent again, save for the groans of the wounded. Vincent walked over to the bank manager, who was cowering behind a desk, bleeding from a superficial grazing wound to his shoulder.
Vincent grabbed him by the collar, lifting him effortlessly. "Who ordered this?"
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"Don... Don Marcone himself," the manager blubbered. "He said if I didn't lock you in, he’d kill my family!"
Vincent shoved him away in disgust. "Tell Marcone that I am coming for him. And tell him he shouldn't have ruined my date."
