Chapter 5 - RAIN OF FIRETactical ropes dropped through the shattered skylight as flashbang grenades rained down into the boardroom.
BANG! BANG!
Blinding white light and deafening detonations filled the room. Vance’s bodyguards were thrown off balance, disoriented and screaming. I dropped low, sweeping the legs of the nearest guard, disarming him, and driving my fist into his jaw before he hit the ground.
The second bodyguard fired wildly into the smoke, but a shadow dropped from the ceiling, slamming him into the glass wall with devastating force.
"Federal agents! On the ground! DO IT NOW!"
Armed SWAT operators in full tactical gear flooded the room through the broken windows and the main hallway, laser sights cutting through the smoke and swirling snow that blew in from above.
Vance dropped to his knees, covering his head, his cigar rolling uselessly across the floor.
Richard didn't move. He sat frozen in his chair, staring blankly ahead as the cold wind whipped through the office, blowing hundreds of fraudulent financial papers into the air like paper snow.
I stood up, wiping blood from a minor cut on my forehead, as Captain Vance—no relation to Marcus—stepped through the debris, holding a sidearm.
"Good timing, Captain," I said, catching my breath.
"You took your sweet time initiating the signal, Sergeant," Captain Vance replied, signaling his men to cuff Marcus Vance and my father. "We intercepted the satellite stream. The ledger is fully secured. The Treasury Department just froze all linked offshore accounts."
As two officers dragged Marcus Vance out of the room, he glared at me with pure venom. "You destroyed everything, Miller! You’re going to spend the rest of your life watching over your shoulder!"
"I've been looking over my shoulder in combat zones for years, Vance," I said coldly. "At least now, I know who's coming."
The officers stepped up to my father. They pulled him out of his leather chair and slammed his hands behind his back, clicking the steel handcuffs onto his wrists.
Richard looked at me, tears streaming down his weathered cheeks, mixing with the melted snow blowing into the room.
"Daniel..." he sobbed. "Please... I'm your father. Don't let them take me. Talk to them. Tell them it was a mistake!"
I walked up to him, looking him dead in the eye. "You left my wife and child to freeze like animals. You told Claire that we weren't family anymore."
I reached into his coat pocket, pulled out his expensive gold wrist watch—the one passed down from my grandfather—and slipped it into my pocket.
"You were right about one thing, Dad," I whispered. "We aren't family."
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As they dragged him away, screaming my name into the empty corridor, the penthouse office fell silent, save for the howling of the winter storm outside. But the battle wasn't over.
There was still one person left who had driven the knife into my family's back.
