Chapter 12 - The Net TightensDown in the main lobby, the building’s lockdown protocols were flashing red. But unknown to Julian and his mercenary crew, Arthur’s security network operated on an independent, military-grade satellite grid that couldn't be hacked from the local server room.
Arthur pressed his communicator earpiece.
— Vance Security Command, this is Arthur Vance. Code Red active on the fifty-third floor. Perimeter breach confirmed.
A crisp, professional voice crackled back instantly through the static:
— Copy that, Mr. Vance. Federal tactical units and corporate security reinforcements have bypassed the blocked ground-floor gates via the subterranean service tunnel. We are locking down all elevator shafts and stairwells now. No one leaves this tower alive.
Arthur smiled faintly in the darkness. Julian thought he had cut off all the exits, but he had walked right into a steel cage of Arthur’s own making.
On the fifty-third floor, the remaining two mercenaries were growing increasingly frantic. They swept their lights through the executive hallway leading to Arthur’s private vault.
— He’s heading for the vault! Cut him off at the gallery corridor! — one mercenary shouted into his radio.
They rushed down the narrow hallway lined with priceless modern art and glass display cases. As they turned the corner into the gallery, the overhead emergency floor lighting suddenly flared to life with a blinding crimson glow.
Standing in the center of the hallway, perfectly calm, was Arthur. He held an assault rifle cradled casually in his arms, his posture completely relaxed.
May you like
— End of the line, gentlemen, — Arthur said softly.
Before the mercenaries could raise their weapons, the heavy steel security shutters at both ends of the gallery slammed down from the ceiling with a deafening CRASH, sealing them inside a inescapable metal corridor.
