Chapter 5 - The Hunt Begins
At 2:00 AM, the rain started falling over the city, turning the asphalt into black glass. Thomas Vance sat in the driver’s seat of a matte-black sedan parked in the alleyway directly opposite the Sterling Global tower. In his passenger seat, Evelyn’s tactical tablet glowed with a live feed of the building’s underground parking garage.
"His private security team just abandoned him," Evelyn said over the encrypted earpiece, her voice calm and methodical. "Marcus and three of the executive protection detail just boarded an elevator to the garage, got into their personal vehicles, and exited the grid. They know a sinking ship when they see one."
"Loyalty bought with checks always expires when the bank account freezes," Thomas replied quietly. He checked the magazine of his Sig Sauer, slid it back into the grip, and chambered a round with a smooth, sharp click. "Where is Julian now?"
"He and his mother are moving toward the private executive elevator on the forty-second floor," Evelyn reported. "They’re heading for the roof landing pad. He’s trying to call his charter helicopter company to fly them out of federal jurisdiction before the SEC secures a travel ban."
"Lock the roof access doors," Thomas commanded. "Send the elevator car to the basement parking garage. I’ll meet him there."
"Override confirmed," Evelyn said. "Happy hunting, Vanguard."
Inside the high-speed executive elevator, Julian pressed the button for the roof landing pad repeatedly, his breath fogging the polished chrome panel. "Come on, come on! Move, you piece of junk!"
Eleanor stood huddled in the corner of the elevator car, clutching her designer autumn wrap around her shoulders, her gold bangles clinking nervously against her designer handbag. "Julian, where are we going? My passports are still at the townhouse! We can't just leave without my jewelry!"
"Forget the damn jewelry, Mother!" Julian snapped, wiping sweat from his forehead. "If we don't get on a flight to Zurich before sunrise, we are going to spend the rest of our lives in a federal penitentiary! We have emergency cash in the Swiss deposit boxes. We just need to get to the helicopter!"
The elevator car suddenly shuddered. The digital floor indicator above the doors flickered, switched from an upward arrow to a downward one, and began descending at maximum speed.
"What is happening?!" Eleanor shrieked, grabbing the handrail as her stomach dropped. "Why are we going down?!"
Julian smashed his fist against the emergency stop button, but the LED panel simply flashed red: MANUAL OVERRIDE - PRIORITY DIRECTIVE ZERO.
The elevator plummeted past the lobby, past the sub-basement, and finally groaned to a halt at Garage Level 3—Private Executive Parking.
The heavy steel doors slid open slowly.
The underground garage was dead silent, bathed in the flickering, eerie glow of a single overhead fluorescent tube. Julian stepped out cautiously, peering into the shadows, his car keys clutched like a weapon in his trembling hand.
"Who’s out there?" Julian yelled, his voice echoing off the concrete pillars. "Marcus? I swear to God, if you set me up, I’ll have you killed!"
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From the darkness between two concrete pillars, a shadow detached itself and stepped into the dim light.
Thomas Vance walked toward them, his coat blowing slightly in the damp garage draft, his calloused hands resting loosely at his sides. He looked nothing like the grieving, blue-collar mechanic who had stood on their porch ten hours ago. He looked like an executioner.
