Chapter 7 - TRAPPED IN THE GILDED CAGE
Emma stopped dead in her tracks.
The sight of the prestigious judge—the man who attended charity galas with her father, whose daughter had spent the last six months making Emma’s school life a living nightmare—standing in front of her with a gun stripped away any remaining illusions of the adult world.
“Madison told me you cried in the bathroom,” Sterling said, his voice laced with a pathetic, nervous arrogance. “She told me you were weak. But you’re just a stubborn little rat, aren't you?”
Emma didn't back away. She stood straight, her chin raised, looking the corrupt judge dead in the eye.
“Madison isn't strong,” Emma said clearly, her voice cutting through the distant sound of gunfire. “She’s just terrified of you. She bullies everyone because she knows you’re a criminal.”
Sterling’s face twisted in rage. He raised the revolver, cocking the hammer. “Shut up!”
Before he could pull the trigger, Emma reached into her pocket and pulled out the small high-decibel personal alarm her father had given her for emergencies—a device she had kept hidden inside her lockbox. She yanked the pin and threw it directly at Sterling’s face.
The device emitted a 140-decibel piercing sonic screech designed to disorient attackers.
Sterling shrieked in agony, dropping his gun and clutching his ears as the overwhelming sound scrambled his senses.
Emma dove past him, slammed the emergency release button on the vault door, and slid inside. The six-ton pneumatic steel door hissed shut, locking into place with four massive titanium deadbolts just as Vance and his remaining mercenaries turned the corner of the corridor.
Outside the vault, the gunfire intensified, then abruptly ceased.
Emma backed away from the reinforced viewport. The glass was four inches of bulletproof polycarbonate. Through the tinted window, she saw Vance pin Marcus to the floor and disarm him.
Then, two mercenaries dragged Richard Hayes into view.
Richard was bleeding from a graze wound on his shoulder, his suit torn, but his eyes burned with unyielding fury. Vance shoved Richard onto his knees directly in front of the vault’s viewing glass.
Vance pulled a small microphone from his collar and pressed the exterior intercom button.
“Emma,” Vance said, his voice coming through the vault’s internal speaker. “You can see us, can't you? Look at your father.”
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Emma pressed her trembling hands against the cold glass. “Daddy!”
“You have sixty seconds to open this vault and hand over the drive,” Vance said calmly, pressing the barrel of his handgun against Richard’s temple. “If you don't unlock this door, I will execute your father right in front of your eyes. Fifty-nine... fifty-eight...”
