Chapter 37 - The Glass Vault
"Welcome home, Oliver," Evelyn Vance said, her lips curving into a grotesque imitation of grandmotherly affection. She stepped down from the dais, extending her manicured hand toward the boy. "The games of your foolish father and grandfather are over. Give me the keys."
Oliver stood at the foot of the dais. He didn't bow. He didn't offer the pillow.
Beside him, Rachel’s face was bruised, her lips split, but her eyes blazed with defiance. "Don't touch him, Evelyn. You touch him and you get nothing."
Evelyn didn't even look at Rachel. With a casual flick of her wrist, she signaled the mercenary behind Rachel. The guard raised the butt of his tactical shotgun, preparing to smash it into Rachel’s spine.
*BANG.*
The sound of the suppressed gunshot cracked through the ballroom like thunder.
The mercenary’s head snapped back, a red mist erupting from his temple as he collapsed across the marble steps. The shotgun clattered harmlessly against the stone.
The ballroom exploded into pure pandemonium.
Billionaires screamed, tripping over their silk gowns and diamond jewelry as they scrambled for the exits. Operatives drew weapons, shouting commands over the chaotic roar of the crowd.
Lena stepped out from the milling swarm of guests, discarding her black velvet mask. Her emerald dress parted to reveal the tactical harness strapped to her thigh. She advanced through the panicked crowd, firing with ruthless, metronomic precision.
*Double-tap.* Another guard dropped.
*Double-tap.* A syndicate enforcer reaching for an uzi crumpled against a gilded pillar.
"Lena Vance!" Evelyn shrieked, backing toward the glass security elevator behind the dais. "Kill her! Kill them all!"
"Marcus! Cut the mains!" Lena yelled into her comms.
Instantly, every crystal chandelier in the Plaza ballroom went pitch-black.
In the blinding darkness, screams of terror amplified. Emergency strobes flared to life, casting erratic, terrifying shadows across the chaos.
Lena sprinted across the floor, vaulting over the velvet dais. She caught Rachel by the arm, slicing through her sister's plastic zip-ties with a combat knife. "Where is Grace?!"
"Marcus's people have her in the perimeter van! She’s safe!" Rachel shouted, grabbing a fallen operative’s sidearm from the floor with lethal familiarity. "Evelyn is taking Oliver to the subterranean glass vault beneath the fountain! The server is down there!"
Lena turned. Through the flickering emergency strobe lights, she saw the glass elevator descending through the transparent floor of the ballroom, plunging into the dark, reinforced subterranean levels beneath the Plaza.
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Inside the glass cage was Evelyn Vance, holding Oliver by the throat, a gleaming silver syringe pressed against the boy’s carotid artery.
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