Chapter 9 - The Blind Pianist’s Advantage
While Vance's men were utterly paralyzed by the pitch-black void and shorted-out gear, Anaëlle was in her element. She had spent hours playing blindfolded, memorizing every inch of the acoustic space through echo and sound reflection.
"Three paces to the left," Anaëlle whispered firmly, taking control. "There's a marble pillar. The guard is flailing near the wall."
"Got him," Julian muttered. A swift, muffled strike echoed in the dark, followed by the heavy collapse of a body.
"Straight ahead—twelve feet," she continued, her heightened hearing mapping the room effortlessly. "Two guards near the doorway. One is reloading!"
Julian moved like a phantom in the dark, utilizing Anaëlle’s precise auditory directions to disarm and neutralize the blind mercenaries one by one. The pitch-black room, which should have been their grave, had become their greatest tactical weapon.
They reached the grand double doors of the foyer. Behind them, Hector Vance was groaning on the floor, clutching his crushed hand and screaming curses.
"The drive..." Hector wheezed in the dark. "You won't get away with this, Julian! The syndicate will hunt you to the ends of the earth!"
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Julian paused at the threshold, kicking open the massive front doors to reveal the bright moonlight outside.
"They won't have to hunt me, Hector," Julian called back coldly. "Because three minutes ago, the moment that drive was unlocked, its contents were automatically broadcast to every federal agency in the country. Your empire is already gone."
