Chapter 11 - The Trap Sprung In The Basement Vault
Richard Vance held a silver revolver pointed directly at John’s chest, his face twisted in a smug, victorious grin.
"You really are your father's son," Vance mocked, stepping slowly into the narrow aisle between the metal shelves.
"Brave, foolish, and entirely predictable," Vance added, gesturing for the two officers to close off the exit.
"Did you really think a clerk at the courthouse wouldn't alert me the moment you made contact?"
John kept his hands held high, his body blocking the open vault door behind him.
"Sarah didn't betray me," John said coolly, realizing Vance had been monitoring all incoming calls to the office.
"It doesn't matter who told me," Vance replied dismissively. "What matters is that you're now caught committing burglary."
"An armed break-in at a government facility... the court will easily grant Martha permanent custody now."
"You're a disgrace to the law, Vance," John spat, his eyes scanning the room for any possible tactical advantage.
"You helped my mother drug my wife! You forged medical reports from a licensed facility!"
"It’s called business, John," Vance sneered, taking a step closer with the silver gun held steady.
"That land is worth two hundred million dollars. Did you really think we would let a penniless blonde girl sit on it?"
Suddenly, the overhead sprinkler system erupted with a deafening screech, blasting ice-cold water throughout the vault.
The sudden, violent downpour blinded the two armed officers, who dropped their guns to shield their eyes from the blast.
John didn't waste a millisecond; he dove shoulder-first into Vance, slamming the high-priced attorney into the metal shelving.
The revolver clattered against the wet concrete floor, sliding away into the dark shadows beneath the cabinets.
John grabbed the leather estate binder from the open vault with his left hand and delivered a hard right hook to Vance's jaw.
The lawyer groaned loudly, collapsing onto the wet floor as the alarm sirens blared wildly throughout the facility.
John bolted toward the open floor hatch, diving headfirst into the dark drainage tunnel just as the officers opened fire.
Bullets ricocheted off the iron ladder frame, sending sparks flying through the misty subterranean air.
John slid down the pipe, hitting the muddy water below and running toward the bright daylight at the tunnel's exit.
"Sam! Drive! Get us out of here now!" John yelled, scrambling into the back of the waiting green pickup truck.
The truck roared to life, tires screeching against the asphalt as they sped away from the surrounding police cruisers.
John panted heavily, clutching the wet leather binder to his chest as he looked back at the retreating courthouse.
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He opened the binder to verify the contents, but his heart plummeted into his stomach as he read the title page.
The documents inside weren't the land deeds at all; they were corporate transfer papers already signed by Martha Miller.
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