Chapter 9 - The Siege in the Shadows
The heavy iron valve wheel on the spa distribution pipe was coated in layers of oxidized rust and industrial grease.
Arthur grabbed the wheel with both hands, planting his leather shoes against the wall to gain maximum leverage.
With a guttural roar of sheer physical effort, the 65-year-old billionaire twisted the wheel clockwise against years of mineral buildup.
The metal screeched in agony, and deep within the foundation, a tremendous hydraulic hammer began to pound through the copper arteries.
"HOLD YOUR EARS!" Arthur shouted through the darkness.
Thirty feet down the corridor, the two mercenary operators stepped cautiously forward, their night-vision tubes glowing an eerie green.
They raised their suppressed carbines, sweeping their weapon barrels across the junction where they expected to find Arthur’s group trapped.
Suddenly, the reinforced overhead pressure relief valve fractured with an explosive blast that shattered the surrounding masonry.
Superheated steam at two hundred and forty degrees erupted into the enclosed tunnel with the velocity of an artillery shell.
The cloud of boiling mist expanded instantly, blinding the contractors' night-vision sensors with an unbearable overload of infrared whiteout.
The mercenaries shrieked in agony as their specialized optical goggles shorted out and the scalding vapor penetrated their tactical vests.
Both men dropped their weapons, flailing wildly as they stumbled backward through the blinding, swirling wall of scalding fog.
"MOVE NOW!" Marcus roared, surging out from behind his concrete pillar like a predator striking through the mist.
Marcus closed the distance in two massive strides, swinging his heavy breaching bar like a bat into the chest of the lead contractor.
The blow knocked the armored mercenary off his feet, sending him crashing into the wall with a hollow metallic crunch.
The second contractor attempted to draw a sidearm through the blinding haze, but Arthur was already upon him.
The billionaire caught the man’s extended wrist, twisting it brutally inward while driving his elbow straight into the contractor's throat.
The mercenary collapsed instantly, gasping for air as Arthur kicked the dropped carbine across the floor into Marcus’s waiting hands.
Emma led Clara forward through the dissipating steam, using a damp cloth over Clara's face to keep her from inhaling the hot vapor.
"The laundry elevator shaft is twenty yards ahead!" Emma called out, coughing lightly against the heavy moisture.
"It runs on an isolated hydraulic system directly into the mansion's main service kitchen!"
"Victoria Belmont’s master override won't cut that lift because it’s powered by a secondary gravity-counterweight!"
They moved rapidly down the tiled corridor, leaving the groaning mercenaries writhing on the concrete floor behind them.
At the end of the hall stood the heavy steel mesh door of the old industrial service elevator, its counterweights resting high above.
Marcus pulled open the accordion metal gate, ushering Clara and Emma into the small, reinforced freight cab.
Arthur shoved the bruised and terrified Julian Sterling inside after them, kicking the former manager into the corner like an old rug.
"You're operating the manual brake, Julian," Arthur said coldly, resting the muzzle of the captured carbine against Julian's temple.
"If this elevator drops an inch faster than standard descent speed, you won't survive the landing to face trial."
Julian's hands shook uncontrollably as he seized the long iron brake lever mounted against the freight carriage's wall.
"I'll pull it! I'll pull it smooth, Mr. Vance, I swear on my life!" Julian cried, his teeth chattering in pure panic.
Marcus stepped into the cab, pulled the outer metal mesh closed, and engaged the heavy mechanical interlock latch.
Julian hauled on the lever with all his remaining strength, releasing the heavy iron counterweights from their ceiling catches.
With a sharp jolt that shook the cables, the freight elevator began its slow, steady ascent toward the mansion's ground level.
Below them, the sound of more boots echoed through the subterranean corridors as Belmont's remaining security forces mobilized.
Emma clutched the master ledger tightly against her chest, her eyes fixed on the metal floor grating as it passed each floor level.
"She’s waiting in the Grand Ballroom, isn't she?" Emma asked, looking up at Arthur's stoic, unreadable face.
"The guests from the poolside party were all escorted inside when the commotion started," Arthur replied, his voice level.
"Victoria Belmont believes in keeping her audience close so she can control the public narrative."
"She is currently telling five hundred of the country’s wealthiest elite that a rogue maid and a dead man tried to rob the estate."
Arthur reached into his pocket and pulled out his private satellite phone, which had finally acquired a secure operational signal.
He pressed a single speed-dial button and brought the receiver to his ear.
"General Sterling... this is Arthur Vance," he spoke calmly into the microphone as the elevator cables hummed around them.
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"Deploy the tactical units to the perimeter of Villa Solitude immediately."
"And inform the United States Attorney that the evidence has just been secured."
