Chapter 28 - A Sister's Last Betrayal
The sound of the hydraulic vault door sealing shut sounded like the closing of a tomb.
Every emergency light in the server room flipped instantly from green back to a blinding, flashing amber.
*SECURITY PROTOCOL DELTA INITIATED: FACILITY LOCKDOWN.*
"What did you do?!" Isabella shrieked, rattling her chains in pure, unadulterated panic.
"I didn't do this," I said, stepping back from the console as the screen began rapidly deleting files on its own.
"It’s not an emergency distress protocol," Marcus realized, rushing to the terminal and pounding on the manual override keys.
The keyboard was completely unresponsive, locked out by an administrative override from an external node.
"Thomas didn't want the money transferred to a bank," Miller said, his face turning pale beneath his blood-soaked bandage.
"He wanted the biometric key to authorize a complete asset liquidation into an un-traceable Swiss crypto-ledger," Miller gasped.
On the main monitor, the account balance of forty-eight billion dollars began plummeting rapidly, millions vanishing every second.
"He used us," Marcus growled, slamming his fist onto the edge of the steel console with bone-rattling force.
"He knew we'd come down here," Marcus snarled. "He knew Clara would activate the terminal to save us from the gas."
Through the cracked, shattered window leading to the blown-out hallway, the sound of slow, rhythmic clapping echoed clearly.
Thomas Sterling stepped into view, his clothes scorched and covered in soot, but his body completely unscathed.
In his left hand, he held a sleek tactical tablet displaying the exact same scrolling ledger as our main monitor.
In his right hand, he held a heavy silenced pistol, pointed with clinical precision directly at Marcus's heart.
"You really are your father's son, Marcus," Thomas smiled, his voice amplified through the shattered intercom frame.
"Predictable, honorable, and relentlessly sentimental," Thomas remarked, shaking his head with mock disappointment.
"You killed Eleanor," Marcus said, stepping between Thomas's gun and where I stood with our child.
"Eleanor was an expensive liability whose time had expired," Thomas replied without a shred of remorse.
"Just like your father," Thomas added, his eyes narrowing into cold slits of pure sociopathy.
Marcus flinched, the words landing with the devastating impact of a physical blow to his gut.
"You told me my father had a heart attack at sea," Marcus whispered, his voice trembling with newfound horror.
"A heart attack induced by potassium chloride in his evening bourbon," Thomas corrected smoothly.
"He found Victoria's trail thirty years ago," Thomas explained, tapping the screen of his tablet with a gloved thumb.
"He wanted to bring her home and restore the rightful balance of the estate," Thomas said with a hollow laugh.
"Can you imagine such foolishness? Handing forty billion dollars to an emotional schoolteacher?" Thomas mocked.
Isabella suddenly cleared her throat from the table, her voice trembling but surprisingly clear.
"Thomas," Isabella called out, her eyes wide with desperate calculation. "I kept them here for you."
Thomas slowly turned his gaze toward Isabella, his eyebrow arched in mild, patronizing amusement.
"Did you, Isabella?" Thomas asked, stepping closer to the jagged hole in the bulletproof glass.
"I delayed them!" Isabella pleaded, holding up her chained hands. "I triggered the halon override! I made her scan her eye!"
"You were a pawn, child," Thomas said softly, his voice dripping with condescension.
"Pawns don't get a seat at the winner's table once the king has been captured."
Thomas slowly raised his silenced pistol, shifting his aim directly from Marcus to Isabella’s forehead.
May you like
"No, please!" Isabella shrieked, squeezing her eyes shut as she curled into a ball beneath the steel table.
Before Thomas could pull the trigger, Agent Miller threw his entire body against the cracked glass partition.
