Chapter 6 - The Architect's Last Legacy
Before the first guard could draw his weapon, the heavy steel door of the vault began to swing shut.
I hadn't just been talking to buy time; I had been waiting for the signal from Gabe.
A loud, metallic groan echoed through the basement as the automated locking mechanism of the vault—which I had secretly bypassed and linked to my company's remote security override earlier that morning—slammed into place. The three guards lunged forward, but they were too late. The heavy bronze gate dropped, separating me from them by six inches of reinforced steel bars.
"What did you do?!" Vanessa screamed, slamming her hands against the gate.
"I locked the cage," I said calmly, picking up my briefcase and tucking Barnaby back inside. "The bank's security system is now under the control of Steel Enterprises. The police are already on their way, Vanessa. And unlike Judge Cole, the federal agents who are coming for Pendelton aren't on your payroll."
"You won't get out of here alive, Steel!" Pendelton roared, his cool demeanor finally shattering. "I have men outside the bank. I have men at your penthouse!"
My heart cold-cocked in my chest.
The penthouse.
I didn't waste another second. I ran to the rear exit of the vault room—a private emergency tunnel that Daniel himself had designed during the bank's renovation ten years ago. It was a secret he had shared only with me, a legacy of his brilliant architectural mind.
I sprinted through the narrow, concrete corridor, my shoes echoing loudly in the damp dark. I burst through a heavy steel door into a side alley two blocks away from the bank, where Gabe was waiting in the running armored SUV.
"Sir!" Gabe said as I threw myself into the passenger seat. "We've got trouble. The security feed at the penthouse just went dark. Someone cut the main power and bypassed our secondary generators."
"Drive," I ordered, my voice dangerously low. "And call the tactical team. If anyone touches those kids, I will burn this city to the ground."
The SUV roared to life, its tires screeching as we tore through the foggy streets of Chicago. The city was a blur of gray and yellow lights, but my mind was focused on one thing: the safety of two five-year-olds who had trusted me to protect them.
As we raced toward the Gold Coast, my phone rang. It was an unknown number.
I answered it. "Speak."
"Ryker," Vanessa's voice was frantic, filled with a desperate, venomous spite. She wasn't at the bank anymore; she must have escaped through a side door before the police arrived. "You think you're so smart. But you left your precious little dragon's nest unguarded. Arthur’s men are inside the penthouse right now. If you want to see those orphans alive again, you will bring the briefcase to the old Sterling Heights shipyard in one hour. Alone."
"If you hurt them, Vanessa," I said, my voice so cold it could have frozen the lake, "there is no place on this earth you can hide from me."
"One hour, Ryker," she hissed, and hung up.
I looked at Gabe. "Change of plans. We're going to the shipyard."
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"Sir, that's a trap," Gabe warned. "They'll have the high ground, and they'll kill you the moment they have the ledger."
"They think they're dealing with a businessman," I said, reaching into the glove compartment and pulling out my own tactical gear. "They forgot that before I built towers, I tore down networks. We're going to war, Gabe. And we're going to bring our children home."
