Chapter 16 - The Titanium Cage
The heavy titanium gates slammed down with a deafening crash, sealing the fiftieth floor completely.
David was officially trapped in the executive corridor with us, with absolutely zero way out.
The building's emergency strobe lights began flashing, painting the hallway in chaotic, blinding bursts of white light.
"You are acting like an emotional child, Maya!" David barked, his calm facade finally cracking.
I stepped out into the flashing corridor, clutching the heavy fire axe tightly in both hands.
"You severely underestimated exactly how much I learned from my father," I called out into the flashing light.
Vance moved flawlessly through the shadows, flanking the left side of the corridor while I stood my ground.
David stepped out from behind a marble pillar, holding a sleek, suppressed pistol aimed directly at my chest.
He looked completely unhinged, his expensive suit wrinkled and his hair wild.
"Put the axe down and place your thumb on this scanner, or I shoot the FBI agent," David commanded.
He held up a portable biometric scanner, the small green light blinking rapidly.
"If you shoot Vance, the sound will alert the street patrols, suppressed or not," I bluffed confidently.
"And if you shoot me, the biometric scanner will instantly reject a pulse-less thumbprint."
I took a slow, deliberate step toward him, the heavy axe dragging slightly against the expensive carpet.
"You have absolutely no leverage, David."
David’s hand trembled violently as he realized his flawless master plan was completely crumbling.
"The cartel will skin you alive for keeping their money," David threatened desperately.
"Let them try," I fired back, taking another bold step forward.
Suddenly, David violently pivoted his weapon and fired a single shot toward the left side of the corridor.
Vance grunted loudly and collapsed against the wall, dropping his firearm as he clutched his bleeding shoulder.
"Vance!" I screamed, my heart stopping in my chest.
David immediately rushed forward, grabbing me roughly by the throat and slamming me against the glass wall.
He jammed the cold barrel of the pistol directly under my chin.
"Game over, sweetheart," David snarled, his breath smelling of expensive scotch and raw panic.
He forcibly grabbed my right hand and smashed my thumb directly onto the glowing green biometric scanner.
The small device beeped loudly, the screen flashing from green to brilliant red.
"Access Denied," the scanner’s automated voice announced brightly.
David stared at the screen in absolute, mind-numbing confusion.
"That is impossible," he muttered frantically, pressing my thumb onto the glass a second time.
The machine beeped again, flashing the exact same red warning.
I looked directly into his panicked eyes and offered him a vicious, utterly triumphant smile.
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"I had my thumbprints surgically laser-altered three weeks ago," I whispered.
"The only print that unlocks that vault is currently sitting in a jar of formaldehyde in a Swiss bank vault."
