Chapter 6 - A Debt Repaid in Steel
The Continental Trust Bank in downtown Chicago was a fortress of neoclassical granite and brass cages. At 2:00 p.m., Garrison’s armored convoy pulled up to the private rear entrance. Six guards in black coats secured the alleyway, while Garrison walked inside with Meline’s hand firmly anchored in his own.
Down in the subterranean vault, beneath twenty tons of reinforced steel, the bank manager led them to box number 742.
Meline’s hands trembled as she inserted the brass key and turned it. The mechanism gave a satisfying, heavy click. Inside lay a leather-bound journal and a micro-drive bearing Clara Vance’s initials.
Garrison opened the journal. On every page, in neat, feminine script, were the dates, vessel names, port authorizations, and bank transfer signatures of Salvatore Moretti and three corrupt federal judges who had shielded his syndicate for twenty years.
""It’s everything,"" Garrison murmured, closing the book. ""This destroys Moretti without firing a single bullet. The Department of Justice will dismantle his entire empire before sunset tomorrow.""
""Then it's over?"" Meline asked, a surge of relief rushing through her veins. ""We can finally give Clara peace?""
Before Garrison could answer, the heavy steel gate of the vault gallery clicked shut from the outside.
The emergency lights flickered, shifting from warm gold to a harsh, cold amber. Through the thick bulletproof glass partition at the end of the hall, a figure stepped into view.
It was not a guard. It was Bennett Shaw.
Standing beside the butler was Salvatore Moretti himself—a sixty-year-old man in an immaculate camel-hair coat, leaning on a silver-topped cane, an arrogant, reptilian grin spreading across his face.
""Bennett,"" Garrison growled, his hand immediately dropping to his weapon, only to find the biometric vault door completely unresponsive.
""I am truly sorry, Mr. Vance,"" Bennett said through the intercom, his voice shaking with a mixture of shame and greed. ""Salvatore paid off my brother’s gambling debts in Macau five years ago. I’ve been his eyes inside your house since Clara was a child. When you brought this girl into the mansion... when she started putting your mind back together... Salvatore knew the balance of power was shifting. He couldn't allow you to recover.""
Moretti tapped his cane against the reinforced glass. ""You were so much more manageable when you were insane, Garrison. Breaking your own furniture, bleeding into the carpet, unable to make a single strategic decision. If this little cleaner hadn't sat at that piano, you would have put a bullet in your own skull by Christmas, and your empire would have fallen into my lap like ripe fruit.""
Moretti looked at Meline through the glass, his eyes cold and mocking. ""A shame. Her mother was a brilliant pianist. Too bad talent doesn't bulletproof a vault.""
May you like
Moretti signaled the bank’s ventilation panel on the wall. ""The oxygen scrubbers in Vault 7 have been disabled. In twenty minutes, the nitrogen displacement will put you both into a permanent sleep. Goodbye, Garrison.""
The two men turned and walked down the hallway, leaving Garrison and Meline trapped in a sealed steel tomb.
