Chapter 6 - The Fall of the First Pawn
The heat inside the vault was becoming unbearable. The top corner of the steel door was glowing a dangerous, cherry-red color as the loud, roaring hiss of an acetylene torch chewed through the deadbolts.
"Five more minutes, boss!" a voice shouted from the outside. "We’re almost through the secondary lock!"
I packed the ledger, the tapes, and the white envelope back into Hazel’s faded blue hospital bag. I zipped it up and secured the safety pin one last time. If they took the bag, the digital copies were already safe with Arthur, but I refused to let them desecrate her final physical belongings.
Suddenly, the roaring hiss of the torch stopped.
A heavy silence fell over the basement, followed by the sound of muffled shouting, scuffling footsteps, and the unmistakable, sharp command of: "FBI! Drop your weapons! Get on the ground! Now!"
The heavy thud of bodies hitting the concrete floor echoed through the vents.
A moment later, three distinct knocks tapped against the steel door.
"Julian Montgomery? This is Special Agent Miller with the FBI Asset Protection Unit. Arthur Vance is with us. The area is secure. You can open the door."
I turned the internal wheel, my hands burning slightly from the radiating heat of the steel. As the heavy door swung open, the cool, damp air of the basement rushed in, clearing away the smoke.
Standing there was a sharp-eyed woman in a tactical vest, her weapon lowered, alongside Arthur Vance, who looked ten years younger despite the midnight hour. On the floor behind them, handcuffed and groaning, were three men in tactical gear—the private security goons hired by Victoria Vance-Croft.
"You okay, kid?" Arthur asked, gripping my shoulder.
"I’m fine," I said, clutching the hospital bag tightly. "Did the files upload?"
Agent Miller held up a digital tablet, showing a list of federal arrest warrants being generated in real-time. "They did, Mr. Montgomery. And because of the evidence you just provided, Judge Lawrence has just been suspended by the state supreme court, and a federal warrant has just been issued for Victoria Vance-Croft for conspiracy, corporate fraud, and attempted extortion."
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"Is it over?" I asked, looking around the ruined basement.
"Not yet," Agent Miller said seriously. "Victoria just boarded a private jet at Portland International Airport. She’s trying to flee to a non-extradition country with the remaining liquid assets of the trust. We need to freeze the accounts before her plane lands."
