Chapter 9 - The Broadcast
The head of security smiled wickedly as he racked the heavy shotgun, relishing the moment he caught me.
He ordered me to step away from the broadcasting console and drop my weapon on the floor.
I slowly lowered Florence’s pistol, realizing that any sudden movement would result in my head being blown off.
Through the glass window, I could see Mason uncap his gold fountain pen, preparing to sign the documents that would destroy everything.
I needed a distraction, something massive enough to disrupt the signing and disarm the massive guard in front of me.
I looked at the technician cowering in the corner and gave him a subtle, desperate nod toward the main power switch.
The terrified technician understood perfectly and slammed his fist down on the emergency ballroom lighting breaker.
The grand ballroom below us plunged into absolute, chaotic darkness, causing the wealthy guests to scream in panic.
The security guard flinched, instinctively glancing toward the glass window to see what had happened.
I lunged forward with all my remaining strength and slammed the heel of my hand directly into his windpipe.
The massive man dropped the shotgun, clutching his throat as he gasped desperately for air.
I grabbed him by his tactical vest and shoved him violently backward into the heavy server racks.
He collapsed to the floor unconscious, completely tangled in thick electrical cables.
I spun back to the console, slammed the lighting breaker back on, and instantly pressed the main broadcast button.
Mason had just managed to calm the panicked crowd and was raising his pen to the paper again.
Suddenly, the massive eighty-inch screens surrounding the ballroom flickered to life.
Florence’s face appeared larger than life, her voice booming through the state-of-the-art surround sound system.
She meticulously detailed Mason’s entire money laundering operation, exposing the cartel connections and the specific offshore accounts.
She named every corrupt politician, judge, and police officer sitting in that very room who had taken Mason's bribes.
The financial ledgers scrolled aggressively across the bottom of the screens, providing undeniable, concrete proof of the massive criminal conspiracy.
The room erupted into absolute pandemonium as investors shouted in horror and corrupt officials frantically tried to flee.
Mason stood frozen at the podium, his face pale with absolute terror as his entire empire crumbled in seconds.
He looked up at the AV control room window and saw me standing there, staring down at him with cold, unforgiving eyes.
He realized I was not dead, and his meticulously crafted plan had just become his ultimate downfall.
Mason pulled a concealed handgun from his tuxedo jacket and aimed it wildly at the crowd, desperate to take hostages.
Before he could fire a single shot, the massive glass doors of the ballroom shattered violently.
Dozens of heavily armed, legitimate FBI agents stormed the room, screaming for everyone to drop their weapons.
The tactical agents were led by a woman wearing an FBI windbreaker, and she immediately tackled Mason to the marble floor.
I let out a massive breath of relief, leaning heavily against the console as the nightmare finally began to end.
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Suddenly, my radio crackled to life, and Brenda’s terrified voice pierced through the static.
She screamed that she had made it to the penthouse, but the panic room was empty, and my granddaughter was nowhere to be found.
