Chapter 56 - The Ledger of Blood and Interest
Julian fired two rounds blind through the smoke, forcing the first descending gunman to let go of his rope and crash hard into the shelving. Screams in Russian echoed through the haze, followed by the deafening chatter of submachine gun fire tearing the mahogany desk to splinters.
"Down the pipe!" Julian roared, shoving me ahead of him into the concrete tunnel.
The tunnel was barely five feet high, slick with condensation and dripping black water. I crawled forward on hands and knees, clutching the gunmetal lockbox against my chest. The fumes from the gas canisters caught the edge of my throat, burning like lye.
Behind us, Julian backed into the tunnel, firing twice more. A scream cut off abruptly as another shooter collapsed into the smoke. He reached into his tactical vest, pulled a heavy steel pry bar, and jammed it through the locking pins of the blast door at the tunnel entrance, slamming the thick iron door shut behind us.
The heavy steel slammed into the frame with a boom that resonated in my teeth. Julian turned the wheel, locking us into the damp dark of the aqueduct.
"That'll hold them for ten minutes," he panted, coughing into his sleeve, his face covered in soot. "Clara... what did you take from the box?"
I clicked on my penlight and popped the latch on the gunmetal box.
Inside lay a thick document bound in blue vellum: *The Articles of Dissolution of the Vance Maritime Syndicate.*
I flipped through the crisp pages until I reached the final schedule of assets.
My grandfather hadn't left the money to Hannah. The deposit receipts Hannah had signed were forged. The Cayman accounts were real, but they required a dual biometric key and a master authorization code known only to the original trustee.
And at the very bottom of the final page, in clear, bold print, lay the trustee designation:
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*In the event of the disappearance or demise of Arthur Vance, sole power of attorney over all assets, liabilities, real estate holdings, and corporate charters of Oakton Harbor shall revert immediately and exclusively to Clara Vance.*
"She didn't get the money," I whispered, the cold reality washing over me like ice water. "Hannah has twenty million dollars sitting in offshore accounts, and she can't withdraw a single red cent without my signature."
