Chapter 103 - Fire Falling from the Sky
The crypt transformed instantly into a slaughterhouse of deafening gunfire and ricocheting lead. The shockwave of the ceiling collapse had blown Emma behind the fortified terminal pillar, saving her from the initial volley. Spitting blood and masonry dust, she scrambled on her hands and knees across the trembling floor toward Vincent.
Vincent lay amidst the rubble, fighting to drag himself upward. One of Vance's surviving bodyguards, bleeding from his ears, drew a secondary tactical blade and lunged toward Vincent’s exposed throat.
Emma didn't hesitate. She grabbed a heavy iron rod torn from the shattered balustrade and swung with every ounce of adrenaline in her body. The iron connected with the man's temple with a sickening crunch. The bodyguard dropped limp into the pulverized mortar.
"Vincent!" Emma dropped beside him, her hands pressing against his torn tactical vest, feeling the feverish heat radiating from his chest. "Vincent, look at me!"
Vincent coughed, his hand rising to grip her wrist with surprising, iron-clad strength. His vision focused, locking onto hers through the swirling cordite smoke. "The upload...?"
"It went through," she whispered, tears cutting pale tracks through the grime on her cheeks. "Every ledger. Every offshore shell account. The entire Vanguard conspiracy is exposed. The world is seeing it right now."
A grim, bloody smile touched the billionaire's lips. "Good girl."
Across the ruined hall, Jonathan Vance was screaming. Dragged to his feet by his remaining two operatives, the patriarch clutched a shattered shoulder, his ivory cane lost in the rubble. He saw the tide turning; Moretti’s strike team had formed a lethal defensive perimeter, sweeping down Vance’s outer perimeter guard with ruthless precision.
"Extract me! Extract me now!" Jonathan wailed, backing toward the narrow subterranean escape tunnel that led out beneath the frozen breakwater of Lake Michigan. "Trigger the deep charges! Collapse the cavern! Bury them all!"
"He’s running!" Marcus shouted, swapping magazines as he knelt by Vincent and Emma. "Mr. Moretti, we have to move. The old bastard rigged the foundations of the pier with maritime demolition charges. In three minutes, this entire subterranean complex will flood with lake water!"
"Take Emma first," Vincent ordered hoarsely, pushing Marcus away as he forced his battered body onto two feet. He refused to be carried. He straightened his back against the agony tearing through his ribs, the legendary pride of the Moretti bloodline refusing to bow even on the threshold of drowning.
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"We leave together," Emma said fiercely, hooking Vincent’s arm over her shoulder. "You didn't leave me at the gala, and you didn't leave me at Pier 42. You don't get to die here, Vincent."
A low, rumbling groan resonated through the bedrock as the first deep demolition charges detonated far below the waterline. Cracks wider than a fist ripped across the crypt floor, and icy, freezing black water from Lake Michigan came surging through the floorboards with the roar of an unleashed beast.
