CHAPTER 8 — SIXTY SECONDS
Daniel fell sideways as I reached him.
I pulled a thin cutting wire from beneath my belt and sliced through the restraints around his wrists.
“Can you walk?”
“Not quickly.”
The guards had followed Marcus through the hidden passage.
Kessler lay motionless near the bench.
The timer showed fifty-one seconds.
Daniel pointed beneath the jury box.
“Maintenance shaft.”
We ripped away a wooden panel and found a narrow opening leading downward.
Radio signals were blocked, but I could hear Naomi’s agents below us.
I shouted into the shaft.
“Evacuate! Explosives are active!”
A voice echoed back.
“Tunnel exit is sealed!”
Thirty-eight seconds.
Daniel examined the wall beside the judge’s bench.
“Old courthouses used independent mechanical locks.”
We tore down the decorative paneling.
Behind it was a steel lever.
It wouldn’t move.
Twenty-nine seconds.
Together, we pulled.
The lever shifted halfway.
Somewhere beneath us, heavy doors began grinding open.
Then stopped.
The system had jammed.
Twenty-one seconds.
Daniel leaned his full weight against the handle.
His injured leg buckled.
I caught him.
“Leave me,” he said.
“No.”
“Arthur—”
“No.”
We pulled again.
The mechanism snapped into place.
Below us, agents shouted that the exit was open.
Twelve seconds.
Naomi’s teams began moving out.
But we were still inside.
Daniel looked at the timer.
“No chance.”
“There’s always a chance.”
I dragged him toward the maintenance shaft.
Seven seconds.
I lowered him through first.
Four seconds.
He dropped onto the metal ladder.
I followed.
Two seconds.
The explosion ripped through the courtroom.
The blast threw me down the shaft.
For several seconds, I heard nothing.
Then sound returned as a high ringing tone.
I was lying in an underground corridor beneath fallen pipes and broken stone.
Daniel crawled toward me.
Naomi’s team was farther ahead, helping injured agents through the tunnel.
The courthouse above us groaned.
“We need to move,” she shouted.
We escaped through a storm drain moments before the central roof collapsed.
Outside, emergency vehicles surrounded the property.
But Marcus was gone.
Naomi received an alert from the estate.
Richard had requested protective custody.
“He’s talking,” she said.
“About Marcus?”
“About everyone.”
Back at the mansion, Richard sat inside an armored federal vehicle.
His confidence had vanished.
“I can give you accounts, names, judges, police departments,” he said. “But I want full immunity.”
“You beat my daughter,” I said.
He looked at the floor.
“I made mistakes.”
“You called it ownership.”
His attorney had abandoned him.
His mother refused to speak.
Richard leaned closer to Naomi.
“Marcus is planning something bigger. The courthouse wasn’t the final operation.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“The Nightfall archive.”
I froze.
The archive contained the identities of undercover officers, protected witnesses, and foreign intelligence sources.
It was supposedly destroyed when I retired.
Richard shook his head.
“Marcus found it.”
“Where?” I demanded.
He swallowed.
“Inside Arthur’s house.”
At that exact moment, my old home security system sent an alert to Lily’s phone.
The kitchen camera activated.
A man stood beside my cold cup of coffee.
Marcus looked directly into the lens.
Then he held up a photograph of Lily as a child.
May you like
Behind him, the wall opened.
And inside it was a vault I never knew existed.
