Chapter 18 - Shadows in the Catacombs
Before Arthur could speak, the high-pitched whine of the detonator in Evelyn’s hand changed pitch.
"Ten minutes until the foundation charges arm," she said calmly, stepping toward the dark rear corridor of the vault.
"Don't move!" Arthur shouted, raising his weapon.
Evelyn threw a heavy flashbang canister directly onto the marble floor.
A blinding burst of white light and a concussive roar ripped through the enclosed chamber, knocking Arthur and his guards to the floor.
Ears ringing violently, Arthur pushed himself up against the safe deposit boxes, his vision swimming with green spots.
"Clear!" his lead operator groaned, stumbling to his feet.
The vault was empty; Evelyn had vanished into the service catacombs that connected the depository to the old subway tunnels.
"Sir, we need to evacuate!" the guard shouted over the piercing hum of the arming timer. "We have eight minutes before the structural charges blow!"
"Go!" Arthur commanded, coughing against the smoke. "Get the injured guards up to street level!"
"What about you, Mr. Hawthorne?"
"I’m finishing this," Arthur said, snatching the folder and diving into the narrow maintenance hatch Evelyn had used.
The air in the catacombs was damp, smelling of ancient sewage and wet stone.
Footsteps splashed in the darkness twenty yards ahead of him.
Arthur sprinted through the arched brick tunnels, his flashlight beam dancing across rusted iron pipes.
He had spent his entire life believing the Hawthorne name stood for nobility, charity, and honor.
Every gala he had hosted, every donation Eleanor had signed, had been nothing more than perfume sprayed on a corpse.
He rounded a sharp corner and emerged onto an abandoned 1920s subway platform long forgotten by the city above.
Standing at the edge of the rusted tracks was Evelyn, loading her satchel into a modified rail inspection cart.
"It ends here, Evelyn!" Arthur yelled, leveling his weapon.
She turned, her face illuminated by the flickering red warning lights on the tunnel wall.
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"It doesn't end until your grandmother watches her golden boy die in the dark," she shouted back.
From the shadows behind the platform pillars, three armed men dressed in black tactical gear stepped forward, raising automatic rifles.
