Chapter 38 - The Crypt of the Founding Dynasty
The armored black SUV roared through the midnight rain, tearing through red lights along FDR Drive.
Arthur gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, dodging commercial traffic while Clara worked on a cracked laptop plugged into the dashboard.
"Vance moved Beatrice from the penthouse," Clara said, tracking the encrypted beacon from Vance's radio.
"Where is he taking her?"
"Not to the docks," Clara replied, her brow furrowing in confusion. "He’s heading south. Toward Lower Manhattan."
Arthur glanced at the GPS coordinates flashing on the screen.
"That's Wall Street," Arthur said. "Trinity Church."
"Why would he go to a cemetery with a hostage?"
Arthur’s face hardened as a memory from his childhood surfaced.
"Underneath Trinity Church," Arthur said, his voice dropping an octave. "The Sterling family has a private subterranean vault dating back to the Revolutionary War."
"What's inside it?"
"The original corporate charters," Arthur said. "And the bearer bonds that established the city's private banking network. Billions in untraceable physical assets."
"He's not just running," Clara realized, looking at Arthur with wide eyes. "He's emptying the dynasty's reserve before he burns the city down."
Arthur slammed his foot on the accelerator.
The SUV screamed through the financial district, its tires squealing against the wet cobblestones near the entrance of the historic churchyard.
The iron gates had been sheared off their hinges by a heavy vehicle.
Arthur cut the headlights and coasted the SUV into the shadow of an ancient oak tree.
Through the rain-streaked windshield, they could see the heavy stone doors of the Sterling family mausoleum standing wide open.
A soft, amber light spilled out from the stone crypt into the dark graveyard.
Two dead private security guards lay sprawled across the mossy headstones near the entrance.
"Vance is already inside," Arthur whispered, drawing his sidearm.
Clara checked her ammunition count and chambered a round.
"He knows we're coming, Arthur," she warned, placing a hand on his arm. "He left those doors open as an invitation."
"Beatrice is down there," Arthur said simply. "I don't care if it's an ambush."
May you like
Clara looked at him for a long moment, then nodded.
"Then we end this together," she whispered.
