Chapter 10 - The Infiltration Beneath The County Courthouse
The air inside the underground storm drainage system smelled of damp earth, rust, and decaying leaves.
John moved quickly through the dark brick tunnel, wearing a black worker jacket and carrying a flashlight.
Beside him, Sam checked the chamber of his sidearm, the metallic click echoing loudly down the corridor.
"The vault sits directly beneath the main record room," Sam whispered, pointing his beam at a heavy iron ladder.
"Once we cut through the lock on this maintenance hatch, you'll be inside the evidence archive," Sam instructed.
"I’ll monitor the police frequency from the utility van parked on broad street."
John climbed the iron rungs, his boots dripping with mud as he reached the circular iron hatch above his head.
He used a compact hydraulic cutter to snap the padlocks, slowly lifting the heavy iron plate half an inch.
The smell of old paper and chemical preservatives drifted down into the dark drainage tunnel.
John peeked through the crack; the basement archive was dimly lit by fluorescent tubes humming overhead.
Two security guards were standing near the main doorway, drinking coffee from paper cups and talking lazily.
"Crazy business with that Miller family," one guard commented, throwing his paper cup into the trash bin.
"Yeah, old lady Martha paid the department a fortune in 'donations' this morning," the second guard chuckled.
"They say the kid's wife lost her mind completely. Sad state of affairs for a nice American family."
John felt his jaw clench, his teeth grinding together as he waited for the guards to walk down the hall.
As soon as their footsteps faded around the corner, John slipped out of the hatch and onto the polished floor.
He darted behind rows of tall metal shelving units holding thousands of yellowed land registries and court records.
At the very end of the aisle stood a heavy fireproof safe bearing a red tag: Pending Destruction - 12:00 PM.
John pulled a digital key-cloning device from his pocket—a tool provided by Sam’s military contacts.
He pressed the device against the electronic lock panel, watching the screen cycle through thousands of codes.
The red light blinked rapidly... then turned a solid, glowing green as the heavy vault door unlatched with a loud click.
John pulled the door open, his eyes landing on the thick leather binder containing his grandfather’s original estate deeds.
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"Looking for these, Mr. Miller?" a voice suddenly echoed behind him, cold and dripping with condescension.
John spun around to see Richard Vance standing at the entrance of the aisle, flanked by two armed court officers.
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