Chapter 6 - The Trap Springs
Vincent stood in the doorway, framed by the cold blue light of the hallway.
He held his pistol in his right hand, his eyes black with an intense, terrifying rage. His gaze fell instantly on the steel box, the open journal, and the USB drive in Clare's hands.
"Where did you get that key?" Vincent demanded, his voice dropping into a low, lethal purr.
Clare scrambled backward against the shelving unit, holding the journal against her chest. "Vincent... listen to me. You need to close the decryption program right now!"
Vincent stepped into the closet, reaching down and grabbing her by the collar of her sweater, hauling her to her feet with effortlessly terrifying power. He snatched the journal from her hand.
"He was here," Vincent spat, his eyes scanning the handwritten pages. "Daniel was inside my safehouse! How did he get the security codes? How did he bypass the biometric locks?"
"He didn't bypass anything!" Clare cried, grabbing his arms. "He built this place with you, didn't he? Before Blaine! You worked together!"
Vincent froze. The muscles in his jaw twitched violently. "That's a lie."
"Look at the entry!" Clare screamed, pointing at the open page. "Read what he wrote about your chest surgery! Read what he wrote about your sister!"
Vincent lowered his eyes to the page. His eyes moved rapidly across the lines of Daniel's handwriting.
As he read, the color drained from his face until he looked like a dead man walking. His hand began to shake—the hand that had held a firearm with absolute, unyielding stability thirty seconds ago.
"No..." Vincent whispered. His left hand slowly reached up, pressing against the thick, jagged scar running beneath his collarbone. "No... it was a collapsed lung... they put in a titanium plate..."
"It isn't a plate, Vincent!" Clare begged, tears running down her cheeks. "It's an encrypted cold-storage drive! Nikolai Vance put his entire liquid fortune inside your body while you were unconscious on the operating table!"
Before Vincent could speak, a high-pitched, rhythmic screeching sound erupted from the main server room behind them.
BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP.
On the large overhead monitor array in the central room, a massive red warning banner began flashing across all twelve screens:
DECRYPTION COMPLETE. METADATA EXTRACTED: BLAINE DOCK ARCHIVE. AUTOMATED BROADCAST SIGNAL: ACTIVE. GPS LAT/LONG TRANSMITTED TO SYN-NET 01.
Vincent stared at the screens through the open doorway, his pupils dilating in sheer terror.
"The photograph..." Vincent murmured, his voice hollow. "The metadata... was an auto-trigger key..."
"Daniel tried to warn you!" Clare yelled, grabbing his weapon arm. "We have to leave! Right now!"
BOOM.
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A deafening explosion rocked the front foundation of the Victorian house, shattering the concrete reinforced walls and sending a blinding wave of heat, dust, and shattered glass roaring down the hallway.
The force of the shockwave threw Clare and Vincent backward into the dark utility closet as the lights died completely, plunging the house into absolute darkness.
