Chapter 9 - The Halon Trap
I stared down the dark barrel of the heavy revolver, my mind racing for a way out.
I slowly raised my hands in the air, pretending to accept my grim fate without a fight.
I warned the greedy banker that shooting me would permanently lock the funds in a dead man's trust.
The banker hesitated for just a fraction of a second to process my bluff.
I instantly grabbed a heavy brass stanchion from the floor and smashed it into the fire alarm on the wall.
The underground bank's automated security system immediately recognized a catastrophic fire threat.
Massive steel blast doors slammed shut over the exits, trapping all the armed guards inside the lobby.
The ceiling vents hissed loudly as they began pumping thick, suffocating halon gas into the sealed room.
The banker dropped his gun and fell to the floor, gasping desperately for oxygen.
I held my breath, jumped over the counter, and manually authorized the wire transfer on his unlocked computer.
I transferred the massive fortune directly to an untraceable encrypted account on my mobile phone.
I grabbed the banker's dropped revolver and shot the control panel for the blast doors, forcing them open.
I sprinted out of the suffocating lobby, gasping for fresh air as I burst back into the laundromat.
I jumped into the driver's seat of the stolen truck and peeled out of the parking lot.
We finally had the money to hire our own army and completely destroy Victoria's empire.
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I looked over at Clara to tell her the good news, but she was slumped heavily against the passenger window.
Blood was dripping slowly from the corner of her pale lips.
