Chapter 6 - THE BLOODLINE CODEI looked from Avery’s intense, unblinking eyes to Marco, who nodded grimly, racking the slide of his pistol.
"Do it, Boss," Marco said. "We’re out of options."
I lowered the shotgun, letting the heavy weapon hit the carpet with a dull thud. "Lead the way."
Avery didn't waste a second. She turned toward the walk-in closet, strode past the rows of custom-tailored Tom Ford suits and Italian leather shoes, and stopped at the back wall lined with cedar panels.
Instead of pushing a hidden button or entering a standard numerical passcode, Avery reached up, unzipped a small hidden compartment in her tactical vest, and pulled out a sterile medical scalpel.
Without hesitation, she pressed the blade against her left palm, slicing a clean, deep line across her skin. Dark red blood welled up instantly.
"What are you doing?" I asked, stepping forward.
"The server room down below isn't protected by biometrics or passwords," Avery said, her voice tight with pain as she pressed her bloody palm directly against the cedar wood panel. "It’s protected by a biometric DNA lock keyed only to the bloodline of the people Arthur betrayed. My father helped design it."
Click. Whir.
The cedar wall groaned, splitting down the center and sliding back into the ceiling to reveal a steep, industrial spiral metal staircase plunging down into total darkness. A blast of cold, damp air rushed upward, carrying the hum of high-capacity server racks.
"Go!" Avery ordered, wiping her bloody hand on her vest and grabbing a tactical flashlight from the wall hook.
We descended the spiral staircase three steps at a time, the metal clanging loudly beneath our boots. The air grew colder, smelling of ozone and superheated server hardware.
At the bottom of the staircase was a massive, reinforced blast door—the inner vault of the Mercer family empire.
And standing right in front of the open terminal console, typing furiously into the master keyboard, was Arthur Mercer.
"Stop right there, Arthur!" I shouted, drawing my backup sidearm and pointing it squarely at my father’s back.
Arthur froze. His fingers hovered over the enter key. Slowly, with infuriating calm, he turned around. A dark, ugly bruise stained his jawline where the chaos of the breach had caught him, but his eyes were as unyielding as granite.
"Lucas," Arthur sighed, shaking his head. "You truly are a disappointment. Bringing an outsider—the daughter of a traitor—into the inner sanctum of our family."
"It’s over, Arthur," I said, my voice echoing off the concrete walls of the underground vault. "The servers are locked. The feds have the outer perimeter logs. If you hit that enter key, you don't erase your crimes—you just lock yourself in here for the rest of your life."
Arthur let out a low, gravelly laugh that echoed like a death rattle.
"You think the feds are going to stop me?" Arthur sneered, taking a step toward the console. "You think some digital logs are going to bring down the Mercer empire? I built this dynasty with my bare hands, Lucas. I sacrificed your mother. I cut down my own brothers. And I will gladly burn this entire building to the ground with all of us inside before I let a bunch of vengeful orphans tear down what I built!"
His finger slammed down onto the master execute key.
WARNING: SYSTEM PURGE INITIATED. FACILITY LOCKDOWN ENGAGED.
Red emergency klaxons exploded to life inside the vault, bathing the room in a hellish crimson glow. Heavy steel security shutters dropped over the ventilation grates, sealing the underground bunker hermetically.
"Marco, stop him!" Avery screamed.
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Marco raised his weapon, but before he could fire, the heavy vault doors behind us slammed shut with a thunderous crash, accompanied by the distinct sound of high-explosive charges detonating on the exterior frame.
The Russians had caught up. And they had just welded the door shut from the outside.
