Chapter 5 - The Trap in the Study
The ambient sound of rain outside the study window seemed to grow deafening in the heavy silence that followed Vance's threat.
Dante looked down at the steel handcuffs sitting on his mahogany desk, then back at Chief Inspector Vance. His mind moved with tactical speed, analyzing the angles, the distance, and the threat level. Two armed officers stood outside the heavy oak door. Vance was standing three feet away, his hand resting casually near his holster.
"If you shoot me here, Thomas, you'll never find the secondary offshore keys," Dante lied smoothly, his voice showing no trace of the panic surging through his veins. "The ones Clara embedded in the company's master framework."
Vance’s eyes narrowed slightly. "The master framework was cleared three years ago."
"You think Clara was stupid?" Dante scoffed, taking half a step to his right, positioning himself between Vance and the desk drawer. "She knew Adrian was stealing. She knew someone inside the police department was covering his tracks. She created a fail-safe protocol that triggers an automatic release of the entire ledger to the Federal Reserve if I am ever arrested or killed."
Vance hesitated, his calculated confidence flickering for a fraction of a second. That fraction was all Dante needed.
Dante slammed his heavy leather armchair forward into Vance's knees, knocking the inspector off balance.
Before Vance could draw his sidearm, Dante lunged across the desk, grabbing the inspector's wrist and slamming it hard against the edge of the mahogany table. The officer's gun clattered onto the floor.
"Maria! Out the side door!" Dante yelled.
Maria didn't hesitate. She scrambled toward the hidden servant's door concealed behind the bookshelf, pushing the panel open and disappearing into the dark staircase.
The heavy oak doors of the study burst open as the two uniformed officers rushed into the room, their weapons raised.
"Drop it!" one officer screamed.
Dante grabbed Vance from behind, pulling the inspector's broad body in front of him as a human shield, wrapping his forearm tightly around Vance's throat. He reached down with his free hand, retrieved Vance's fallen sidearm from the floor, and pointed it directly at the lead officer's forehead.
"Back out of the room!" Dante commanded, his voice echoing like thunder in the enclosed study. "Now!"
"Dante... don't do this!" Vance choked out, his face turning red under the crushing grip on his trachea. "You're making yourself look guilty!"
"I don't care what I look like to corrupt cops, Thomas," Dante growled near Vance's ear. "Where is my wife?"
"I don't know!" Vance gasped. "I didn't take her from the cabin! Someone else hit my extraction team three years ago! We found the vault empty when we got there!"
Dante’s mind reeled. If Vance didn't have Clara, who had cut the steel hatch from the outside?
Dante didn't have time to ponder the mystery. He backed toward the hidden servant’s door, keeping his weapon leveled at the two officers who were slowly spreading out to flank him.
"Drop your weapons on the desk," Dante ordered. "Or your chief dies right here."
The two officers looked at Vance, then at each other. Reluctantly, they unholstered their sidearms and set them on the edge of the desk.
Dante didn't waste a second. He shoved Vance hard into the two officers, sending all three men tumbling to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs.
Dante stepped through the hidden bookshelf door, slammed the heavy wooden panel shut, and threw the manual iron bolt into place from the inside, locking them in his study.
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He raced down the narrow, spiral servant’s stairs, his heart pounding in his chest.
He needed two things: his daughter, and the master key Clara had left behind.
