Chapter 11 - The Chicago Rain Pounds Outside The Broken Glass
Outside the reinforced panoramic windows of the penthouse, the autumn storm reached a violent, deafening crescendo.
Lightning illuminated the Chicago skyline in brilliant flashes of white, casting dramatic shadows across the vault floor.
The wind shrieked against the thick glass panes, threatening to shatter the high-rise barrier guarding the luxury suite.
Inside the vault, the air was heavy with the smell of gunsmoke, ozone, and spilled blood.
The Boss stood over Viktor, who was now kneeling on the concrete floor with his hands locked behind his head.
“You lost, Viktor. The board has your confession, the feds have your bank accounts, and your men are trapped upstairs,” the Boss said.
Viktor laughed softly, spitting a drop of blood onto the polished marble near his knees with defiant arrogance.
“You think federal marshals are coming to save you? Look at the emergency override screen, little brother,” Viktor whispered.
The security terminal blinked violently once more, shifting from a steady red warning to a blinding amber flash.
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A secondary countdown timer appeared on the master display, ticking down from ten minutes with silent menace.
***
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