Chapter 14 - The Truth in Blood
The storm returned to Manhattan with torrential fury, blacking out power across lower Manhattan as lightning split the night sky.
Inside the high-security vault room beneath the Brooklyn Federal Reserve, Grace stood surrounded by five heavily armed bodyguards. She had moved her primary operations deep underground, terrified of the shadow lurking in the dark.
"Scan the perimeter again!" Grace barked at her head of security. "If a single mouse moves in these tunnels, blow it to pieces!"
Suddenly, the heavy steel lights flickered twice and died completely, plunging the vault into pitch-black darkness.
Screams echoed in the dark, followed by the muffled thud-thud-thud of silenced pistol fire, the clatter of dropped rifles, and the heavy groans of dying guards. It took less than fifteen seconds for absolute silence to fall over the room once more.
Grace pulled a backup flashlight from her jacket, her hand shaking so violently the beam bounced frantically across the concrete walls.
The light beam stopped on a figure sitting calmly on a steel crate in the corner.
I sat there, dressed in a black tactical coat, holding a heavy suppressed pistol rested casually on my knee.
"You should have checked my pulse yourself, Grace," I said, my voice echoing off the damp concrete.
Grace raised her revolver, pointing it directly at my forehead. "I'll make sure it's zero this time, Dominic."
"Go ahead," I said, not even flinching. "Pull the trigger. But before you do, ask yourself why your Uncle Silas suddenly bought forty percent of your new holding company three hours before my crash."
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Grace froze, her finger hovering over the trigger. "Silas... Silas was in exile in South America. He helped me set up the shell companies to avenge my father!"
I tossed a heavy, blood-stained digital audio tape at her feet. "Play it."
