Chapter 6 - The Trap Springs
The failure at the estate pushed Victor Vance into desperation. Realizing he could not breach Kieran’s perimeter while Meredith was engineering his defenses, Vance changed his strategy: target both women at once.
It happened on a quiet Tuesday afternoon. Jolene had persuaded Meredith to accompany her to a private art gallery downtown—an event secured by eight of Kieran’s best men. But Vance didn't attack with guns. He used a localized chemical gas deployed through the gallery’s HVAC system, incapacitating the guards at the door within seconds.
When Meredith realized what was happening, the vents were already pouring gray mist into the gallery. She grabbed Jolene, smashing a fire extinguisher against the rear reinforced glass door, but the impact only spider-webbed the surface.
"Meredith!" Jolene choked out, collapsing against a marble display pedestal.
Meredith pulled her shirt over her mouth, her vision blurring. She reached into her pocket, pressing the emergency transmitter she had linked directly to Kieran’s personal phone. Before she could force the door open with a metal pry bar, heavy footfalls echoed behind them. Hooded men with gas masks grabbed both women, dragging them into the darkness of an unmarked van parked in the alley.
Ten minutes later, Kieran stood in the ruined gallery, holding Meredith’s dropped emergency transponder. His face was devoid of color, his aura terrifyingly quiet. Bryce stood beside him, holding a phone that was ringing on a private line.
Kieran answered it. "Vance."
"I have your sister," Vance’s distorted voice rasped through the speaker. "And I have your little engineer. The one who keeps ruining my plans. If you want them back alive, come to the abandoned ironworks in Gary, Indiana. Alone. No cops, no captains. Just you."
"If you touch either of them," Kieran said, his voice dropping to a whisper that chilled the room, "there is no place on this earth where you will be safe."
Vance laughed and hung up.
In the dark basement of the Gary ironworks, Meredith awoke tied to an iron pillar, her wrists bound with heavy steel zip-ties. Beside her, Jolene was tied to a matching post, sobbing silently.
Victor Vance sat in a folding chair across from them, tapping a steel pipe against his boot. "The famous Meredith Lawson," Vance sneered, stepping closer. "You've been a thorn in my side for a month."
Meredith didn't answer. She was already feeling the tension of the zip-ties against her skin, testing the angle of the iron beam behind her back. Her fingers reached for the small, razor-sharp steel pick she kept sewn inside the hem of her sleeve—a habit from her military days.
"He won't come alone, Victor," Jolene spat through her tears. "He will tear this place apart."
May you like
"I want him to try," Vance grinned maliciously. "The whole building is rigged with industrial explosives. The moment Kieran walks through those doors, I drop the detonator."
Meredith kept her eyes lowered, her fingers working silently behind her back. Three minutes, she calculated. I need three minutes.
