Chapter 3 - The Trap SprungBefore Viktor could raise his crowbar to smash the keypad, the red LED light above the steel door flashed from emerald to violent crimson.
Click. Whirrr.
The heavy bolts retracted with a mechanical groan. The door swung inward on oiled hinges, revealing a concrete holding cell illuminated by a single, flickering fluorescent bulb. Tied to a metal chair in the center of the room was Leo Draven, nineteen years old, his face bruised, his lips split, and his eyes wild with terror.
"Dad, get out!" Leo screamed, his voice raw. "It's a—"
He didn't get to finish the warning.
The heavy steel door slammed shut behind Viktor, Lily, and Shadow with deafening force. The electronic lock engaged instantly, locking them inside. From the ceiling vents, a sharp, sweet hiss filled the room. Halothane gas.
"Amateurs use guns," a voice drawled from a hidden intercom speaker mounted above the cell. "Smart men use architecture."
Viktor whirled around, firing three rapid shots into the speaker, shattering the plastic casing into a shower of sparks, but the voice continued to echo from hidden walls.
"Welcome to your tomb, Viktor," laughed Viktor’s most trusted advisor, Julian Vance, whose voice dripped with a terrifying, calm betrayal. "For twenty years, I've watched you sit on a throne built on other men's blood. Tonight, the kingdom gets a new king."
Through a reinforced one-way observation window on the opposite wall, a shadowy figure stood watching. Julian Vance—the man who had poured drinks at Viktor’s mansion, the man who knew every safehouse, every account number, and every vulnerability.
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"You traded my son for your ambition?" Viktor snarled, pressing his back against the glass, his face twisted in pure, unadulterated fury.
"Not traded, Viktor. Consolidated," Julian's voice purred over the intercom. "And don't worry about the little girl and her mutt. They'll make lovely company for you while the oxygen runs out. The gas takes about four minutes to put you into a permanent sleep. Sweet dreams, king of London."
