Chapter 5 - The Silent Alarm
I stared at the heavy mahogany door as Nicole pounded against the wood.
She was not playing the helpless widow anymore.
She had stayed behind to ensure the neurotoxin finished the job, and she had clearly found my discarded hospital bracelet in the trash.
“You really thought you could outsmart us, you arrogant rich bitch?” Nicole yelled, kicking the door frame.
I quietly slid my hand under my massive oak desk and pressed the silent panic button that linked directly to Carter’s tactical team.
I needed to buy exactly three minutes of time.
“Nicole, you don't have to do this,” I called out, injecting fake terror into my voice.
“Brandon is playing you just like he played me!” I yelled, hoping to spark a fraction of doubt.
Nicole laughed wildly, a sound completely devoid of sanity.
“Brandon is an idiot who thinks he is in charge, but Marcus and I have been planning this for years,” she confessed proudly.
“Once Brandon files the LLC paperwork, Marcus is going to arrange a tragic boating accident for my stupid husband,” she gloated.
I recorded every single word she said using the dictation software on my computer.
The heavy wood of the door began to splinter as she slammed the butt of the shotgun against the lock.
“And you, my sweet best friend, are going to die of a tragic drug overdose right here in your study,” she promised.
The lock finally gave way with a deafening crack, and the door swung open.
Nicole stepped into the room, pointing the double-barreled shotgun directly at my chest.
She smiled, her finger tightening on the trigger.
Before she could fire, the massive floor-to-ceiling glass window behind her shattered inward in a shower of brilliant shards.
Carter repelled from the roof, crashing through the glass and tackling Nicole to the ground in a single, fluid motion.
The shotgun discharged into the ceiling, raining plaster down upon my desk.
Carter pinned her securely to the floor, zip-tying her wrists behind her back in seconds.
I walked around my desk and looked down at the woman who had eaten at my table for four years.
“Take her to the warehouse and make her tell you everything Marcus is planning,” I ordered Carter coldly.
Carter dragged a kicking, screaming Nicole out through the shattered window.
I turned back to my computer to freeze all of Marcus's corporate access codes.
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But the screen suddenly flashed red with a massive system override warning.
A pre-programmed digital virus was actively draining three billion dollars from my primary corporate accounts, and it was moving too fast to stop.
