Chapter 30 - The Final Audit
Arthur raised the suppressed pistol slightly, leveling the barrel at the center of my chest. His expression remained utterly serene, the face of a man who believed he held all the winning cards on the board.
“It’s a shame, Julian,” Arthur said softly, his finger resting against the trigger. “You survived the syndicate, you dismantled Sterling’s little network, and you even managed to track down the darknet files. But you should have stayed in the dark. Now, just like your wife, you’ve become an inconvenient operational liability.”
I didn't flinch. I didn't reach for my own weapon. I simply leaned back in my chair, looking past Arthur toward the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse office where the gray dawn of another Chicago morning was just beginning to break over the skyline.
“You always were arrogant, Arthur,” I said quietly. “You spent so much time looking at the corporate board room that you forgot to check the security logs for the service elevator.”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second. “What are you talking about?”
The door to the private office didn't open with a crash or a battering ram. It swung silently inward, sliding smoothly along its hinges.
Standing in the doorway, wearing her simple gray wool coat and her dark hair pulled back into a neat, unassuming knot, was Claire Whitman. In her right hand, held with absolute, terrifying casualness, was a pair of surgical scissors.
Arthur spun around instantly, his pistol whipping toward the doorway.
He never completed the motion.
With blinding, impossible speed, Claire flicked her wrist. The steel blades of the surgical scissors flashed through the dim office light, burying themselves deep into Arthur’s wrist. A sharp cry of pain tore from his throat as the pistol dropped from his crippled hand, clattering loudly against the polished marble floor.
May you like
Before Arthur could stagger backward, Claire closed the distance across the room like a striking serpent. She swept his legs out from under him, pinned him face down against the floor with a knee pressed firmly into the base of his spine, and twisted his arm upward with ruthless efficiency.
Arthur gasped for air against the marble, completely immobilized.
