Chapter 42 - The Glass Smashes
"You built a child," Marcus said, his voice flat, deadened by the absolute collapse of his entire reality. He stayed crouched over Chloe, his thumb hovering over the release trigger of the green injector in his jacket pocket. "You stole Sarah’s cells while she was dying in oncology, you put our daughter in an icebox, and you manufactured a replacement to raise like cattle."
Eleanor walked closer, stopping just outside the range of Marcus’s reach. The two mercenaries flanking her kept their weapons trained directly on Marcus’s forehead.
"I preserved our bloodline, Marcus," Eleanor replied without a flicker of remorse. "Do you have any concept of what the Vance name is worth? The board of directors, the pharmaceutical conglomerates, the trust funds—they belong to an unbroken direct heir. When your precious Sarah contracted that terminal neuroblastoma, she was carrying the final pure genetic sequence. If she died without issue, the entire estate defaulted to the federal conservatorship."
"So you put our baby on ice," Marcus whispered, disgust coating every syllable.
"The original had the defect. Her bone marrow was failing," Eleanor explained, gesturing calmly toward the frozen child in the pod. "We couldn't fix her with the technology six years ago. So I froze her. And I used her genetic material to engineer this one—a clean slate, with an immune system modified to develop the synthetic antibodies necessary to cure the first."
Eleanor took a step forward, raising the pistol.
"She has fulfilled her purpose, Marcus. Her bone marrow has matured. Her neuro-antibodies are fully formed. Tonight, we harvest. The real Chloe will wake up healthy, cured, and ready to assume the Vance empire. And this... little shadow on the table... will be quietly laid to rest beside Sarah."
"She's a six-year-old child!" Marcus roared, rising to his feet, shielding Chloe entirely. "She laughed when I read her bedtime stories! She scraped her knee in the park and cried for me! She is your flesh and blood!"
"She is an incubator!" Eleanor snapped, the veneer of aristocratic composure cracking, revealing the monster underneath. "And you will not destroy forty million dollars of research for a sentimental illusion!"
Eleanor gestured to the mercenary on her left. "Clear him away from the table. Put the sedative in his neck."
The soldier lowered his weapon and stepped forward with a combat syringe.
Marcus didn't hesitate. He pulled the oxygen wrench from the floor behind his foot and swung it in a vicious upward arc. The heavy iron head shattered the soldier's jaw with a sickening crunch. The man collapsed instantly, his weapon clattering across the floor.
The second guard raised his rifle, but Marcus threw himself forward, tackling the man into the cryogenic pod.
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The back of the guard's helmet smashed against the thick glass viewport. The rifle discharged into the ceiling, three deafening rounds tearing through overhead hydraulic lines. Pressurized coolant sprayed across the room, filling the vault with white, blinding vapor.
***
