Chapter 42 - A father's silent code
The blast of falling crystal sent Vance’s men diving for cover. Shards of antique glass exploded across the marble, glittering like hail under the storm light. Grace moved with terrifying speed, sweeping low beneath Vance’s line of sight. Her shoulder slammed into his hip, knocking his arm upward just as his thumb clenched down against the transmitter casing.
The detonator flew from Vance’s grip, skittering across the slick floor toward the open courtyard.
"Fire!" Vance roared, rolling across the floor and drawing a sidearm from his chest holster.
Gunfire ripped through the historic foyer, tearing mahogany paneling and antique portraits to splinters. Ethan dragged Lily down behind the solid oak credenza, shielding her head with his torso. Concrete dust and gunpowder filled the air. Lily reached into her jacket, pulling out the small silver key Arthur Caldwell had given her before he passed away—a key Ethan had thought was merely a keepsake for a music box.
"Ethan, look at the base," Lily whispered urgently over the deafening cracks of gunfire. "Grandfather didn't hide money. He hid the override frequencies."
Ethan looked down at the tiny, intricately carved cylinder. Micro-etched along the spine of the key were nine alphanumeric digits followed by an emergency radio band. His father hadn't left a passive trust fund; he had built an active military countermeasure into the estate's subterranean communications system. Arthur Caldwell had foreseen the exact blackmail Vance was now attempting.
Outside, Grace engaged the lead mercenary. She deflected a rifle barrel with her left forearm, drove an open palm into the operative’s jaw, and stripped the weapon from his hands in one continuous, fluid arc. She turned the rifle on the tires of the armored transport, firing three controlled bursts that ruptured the hydraulic suspension and immobilized the vehicle.
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Vance scrambled back to his feet, blood seeping from a cut on his forehead where a chandelier crystal had grazed him. He snatched the fallen transmitter from the wet grass just outside the threshold. His face twisted with raw fury.
"You think a clever diversion saves you?" Vance snarled, thumbing the secondary switch. "The timer is set for five minutes. If you want the disarm code, give me the girl."
