Chapter 8 - The Final Stand
Nora stepped in front of the concrete pillar, completely shielding Eli from Celeste's view. The air in the sub-basement felt stifling, heavy with the smell of gunpowder and hot electronics.
"You're a monster, Celeste," Nora said, her voice laced with pure disgust. "You killed my father, you abused a five-year-old child, and now you're going to blow up your own house?"
"My house?" Celeste sneered, taking three slow steps into the room, her high heels clicking sharply against the concrete floor. "This place was just a set, Nora! A stage to impress gullible fools while I built an empire that spans four continents. I have forty million dollars waiting in an un-traceable account in Dubai. A helicopter is landing on the south lawn in ten minutes. I don't need this mansion anymore, and I certainly don't need you."
She raised the black handgun, aiming it squarely at Nora's chest.
"Where is the master key drive your father hid?" Celeste demanded, her finger resting on the trigger. "Give it to me, or I will shoot you, take the boy, and throw him out of the helicopter at ten thousand feet."
Behind the pillar, little Eli gasped, covering his mouth with both hands to keep from screaming.
Nora felt a sudden, terrifying clarity wash over her. There was no time left. The digital timer on the thermite charges ticked down to 00:12:05. The FBI raid was minutes away, but if Celeste pressed that red button on the remote, none of it would matter.
"The key drive isn't with me," Nora lied smoothly, taking a slow half-step to the left to draw Celeste's aim further away from Eli's hiding spot. "It's in the safe room with my father."
Celeste blinked, her eyes widening in genuine shock. "Arthur... Arthur is alive?"
"He's been watching you every single day," Nora said, a cold smile touching her lips. "He saw every glass of scotch you drank, every document you forged, and every time you touched my brother. You didn't win, Celeste. You never were smarter than him."
"LIAR!" Celeste screamed, her composure completely shattering. In her blind rage, she raised the gun to pull the trigger.
BANG!
A deafening gunshot shattered the air inside the concrete basement.
Sparks flew from the metal server rack beside Celeste as a high-caliber bullet tore through the air. Celeste gasped, dropping the gun as a bullet grazed her shoulder, knocking her backward against the doorframe.
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Standing at the far end of the basement corridor, supported by a heavy steel crutch and holding an old service revolver in his right hand, was Arthur Vale.
"Get away from my daughter," Arthur roared, his voice booming like thunder through the subterranean room.
