Chapter 7 - Confrontation at the Ridge
The rain had turned into a thick, icy sleet by the time my Maybach pulled up the winding gravel road of the Vance Ridge Facility in Upper New York.
The facility sat on a isolated hilltop, surrounded by high chain-link fences and dense pine forests. It housed the physical mainframe servers that held the company’s trade secrets and operational code.
When we arrived, the security gate was smashed open. Chloe’s red sports car sat crushed against the concrete guardhouse, its engine smoking in the cold air.
“Mrs. Vance, stay in the vehicle!” my head security officer warned, pulling his weapon. “We’ve called the state troopers, but they’re ten minutes away due to the ice!”
“I’m not waiting,” I said, stepping out into the freezing sleet. “He knows the master override codes for the fire suppression system. If he activates the halogen gas, he’ll destroy the servers permanently.”
I grabbed a heavy flashlight from the driver and ran toward the main entrance of the bunker.
Inside, the lights were flickering emergency red. The loud hum of cooling fans was drowned out by the piercing shriek of internal alarms.
I walked down the concrete corridor toward the main server vault. Heavy glass walls separated the hallway from rows of towering black server racks pulsing with blue light.
Standing inside the glass vault, holding a heavy steel crowbar and a red jerrycan of gasoline, was Ethan.
He looked completely unhinged. His hair was wild, his clothing soaked in fuel, and his eyes burned with an unholy, maniacal light.
“Ethan! Stop!” I yelled, slamming my hand against the safety glass.
Ethan turned, a twisted, terrifying smile spreading across his face. “Hello, Maya! Come to watch me burn your precious empire?”
“Ethan, put the gasoline down!” I shouted over the blare of the alarm. “If you do this, you’ll go to federal prison for thirty years! You’ll never see your child born!”
Ethan laughed—a harsh, manic sound that echoed off the concrete walls. “My child?! Chloe left me two hours ago! She called the federal prosecutors trying to make a deal for immunity! Nobody cares about me! My mother destroyed me! You stole my life!”
“You destroyed yourself, Ethan!” I yelled back, stepping closer to the glass partition. “You had everything! A marriage, a company, a mother who loved you! But your greed was never satisfied! You couldn't bear the thought of sharing success!”
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“I built Vance Global!” Ethan screamed, raising the crowbar and smashing it into the primary cooling manifold of the central server rack. Sparks erupted in a violent shower of white light. Gas began to hiss from the broken pipes.
“Ethan, no!”
