Chapter 14 - The Raid on the San Diego High-Rise

At 11:30 a.m., three unmarked black tactical command transports from the FBI and the Department of Justice pulled up to the glittering glass facade of the Pacific Gateway Tower on Broadway in downtown San Diego.

Leading the breach team was Hank Vance, accompanied by Special Agent Marcus Cole and twelve armed federal compliance officers.

They rode the express elevator to the thirty-fourth floor, entering the sprawling executive suites of Vance, Croft & Sterling.

Inside, sixty associates and junior partners were in a state of sheer, screaming chaos. Paper shredders were humming at maximum capacity, and two technicians were frantically trying to disconnect hard-drive arrays in the central server closet.

BOOM!

The reinforced double glass doors were breached using pneumatic entry tools.

"FEDERAL LAW ENFORCEMENT! STEP AWAY FROM THE SHREDDERS! HANDS IN THE AIR!"

The technicians froze, raising their hands as tactical marshals secured the server cabinets with forensic write-blockers.

Hank Vance strode through the executive corridor, his heavy wingtips clicking against the imported Italian marble, stopping outside Harrison Vance-Reed’s corner office.

Behind the desk, frantically stuffing Swiss bearer certificates and gold bullion bars into a leather flight case, was fifty-eight-year-old Bradley Vance-Croft—the firm's managing director of offshore escrow.

Bradley looked up, his jaw dropping in pure terror as he saw Hank and the federal agents flanking the doorway.

"Hank...?! Cousin Hank?!" Bradley stammered, dropping a stack of gold certificates onto the carpet. "This is an internal partnership audit! You have no warrant for the escrow vaults!"

Hank walked into the office, his large, powerful frame casting a dark shadow over the desk. He didn't raise his voice; he reached down with one hand, shutting the lid of the flight case with a concussive THUD.

"Your escrow licenses were revoked by the California Department of Financial Protection forty-five minutes ago, Bradley," Hank said, his voice dropping forty degrees below zero. "And your bearer certificates belong to the victims of Brandon's Ponzi scheme."

Agent Cole plugged an encrypted Department of Justice hardware token into the desktop terminal:

BEEP-CHIRP.

The panoramic video wall in the boardroom flared bright emerald green:

[ACCESS CONFIRMED — OVERRIDE ACTIVE — $120,400,000.00 RECOVERED — 100% TRANSFERRED TO THE GWEN ALBRIGHT FIDUCIARY TRUST].

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Bradley sank back into his high-backed leather chair, his hands shaking in total, ruined defeat.

"The vault is sealed, Hank," Agent Cole announced. "Load the servers into the tactical transport."