Chapter 5 - The Brewery Cellar
The air inside the lower drainage system beneath the old brewery was cold and tasted of lime and rusted iron. Damian led the way, his tactical flashlight casting a narrow cone of white light across the wet stone walls. Eliza carried Oliver against her hip, the boy’s legs wrapped tightly around her waist, his face hidden in the crook of her neck. Vane brought up the rear, his heavy boots splashing through the shallow water, still carrying Evelyn, who had gone into a state of shock, her eyes wide and unblinking as she stared at the stone ceiling.
"Arthur didn't make it," Vane said from the darkness behind them. His voice was flat, reporting a tactical reality rather than expressing grief. "The gas got him before he cleared the threshold. He stayed by the door with his revolver."
Damian didn't stop walking. "Arthur lived forty years past his expiration date anyway. He chose his ending. Let’s make sure we get to choose ours."
The tunnel sloped upward, ending at a rusted iron ladder that led to a wooden hatchway. Above them, the low, rhythmic thumping of a diesel engine could be heard through the beams—the idling of an armored transport van parked in the abandoned brewery courtyard.
"That's Marcus's command vehicle," Vane whispered, setting Evelyn down on a dry stone ledge at the base of the ladder. He checked the magazine tube of his shotgun, his fingers steady despite the frantic pace of their escape. "He likes to be within three hundred yards of the execution site when the scrubbers finish. He likes to verify the recovery of the assets himself."
Eliza sat beside her mother, chafing the older woman’s cold hands. "Julian... Vane. If Marcus is up there, he has the decryption terminal. The flash drive I have... it’s only half the puzzle. It contains the raw asset ledger, but the actual ownership transfers require his personal biometric key to unlock the offshore accounts."
"He keeps the terminal chained to his wrist," Vane said, looking up at the wooden hatch. "A military-spec Toughbook with a thermal-imaging sensor. If his heart rate drops below sixty, the drive wipes itself."
"Then we don't kill him," Damian said, his voice dangerously calm as he stepped onto the first rung of the ladder. "We just make him wish we had."
Oliver reached out from Eliza's arms, his small fingers catching the edge of Damian’s leather sleeve. "Daddy... don't go up there into the dark."
Damian paused on the ladder, looking down at his son. In the dim light of the flashlight, his rugged face looked like it had been carved out of granite, but his eyes were filled with an absolute, soft devotion that no forged paternity test could ever erase.
"Oliver," Damian said softly, "remember what I told you about the wolves on the winter mountain? They only come into the valley when they think the fire is out. I'm going up there to show them the fire is still burning. You stay with your mother. You listen to her voice."
May you like
He looked at Vane. "You want the north side or the south side of the yard?"
Vane offered a grim, razor-thin smile that looked exactly like the one Eliza used when she was about to close a hostile corporate takeover in the boardroom. "I'll take the high ground, brother. Let’s see if those snipers remember who taught them how to lead a target."
