Chapter 10 - The False Victory
Viktor Volkov’s revolver didn't waver.
I stood on the concrete stairs, trapped between the Russian mobster and the sound of Thomas’s enforcers rushing down the floors above me.
"If you shoot me, Viktor, Thomas will hear it and kill you for trespassing," I bluffed, keeping my hands visible.
Viktor chuckled, taking a step closer.
"I am not afraid of Thomas."
"I just want the leverage on the encrypted drive."
I reached slowly into my blouse, retrieving the small metal flash drive.
I held it up, letting the dim stairwell light catch the silver casing.
"Catch," I said.
I threw the drive directly at his face.
Viktor instinctively reached up to grab it, lowering his revolver for a fraction of a second.
I didn't run away.
I lunged forward, grabbing the heavy fire extinguisher mounted on the wall beside me, and smashed it directly into the emergency sprinkler pipe above Viktor’s head.
The pipe ruptured violently, spraying thousands of gallons of high-pressure, freezing water onto the stairwell.
The sudden blast knocked Viktor and his bodyguards off their feet.
In the chaotic, blinding spray, I scooped the flash drive out of the puddle and sprinted past them, bursting out into the chaotic streets of the Financial District.
I didn't stop running until I reached the safehouse in the Bronx.
Larkin was standing by the door, pale and bleeding, holding a gun.
When he saw me, he dropped the weapon and pulled me into a crushing embrace, burying his face in my wet hair.
"You got it," Larkin breathed, pure relief flooding his voice.
I pushed him away, slapping the flash drive onto the metal table.
"Send it to the Commission," I ordered coldly, refusing to acknowledge the warmth of his touch.
Larkin didn't argue.
He plugged the drive into his laptop, executing a mass email to every syndicate boss, federal judge, and news outlet in the city.
Within two hours, the city erupted.
The data proved Thomas was running a massive human trafficking ring and framing the Commission members for federal crimes.
The news stations immediately retracted their manhunt for Larkin.
By midnight, Thomas Steves was found dead in a luxury hotel room, eliminated by the Commission's own assassins for his treason.
We had won.
Larkin was a free man, and his empire was completely secure.
"You saved my life, Penelope," Larkin said, walking toward me with a desperate, pleading look in his eyes.
"We can rule this city together."
I looked at the man who had lied to me from the very beginning.
"I quit," I said.
I walked out of the safehouse, leaving Larkin standing alone in the shadows.
I took the subway back to my tiny, cramped apartment, exhausted but finally free.
I unlocked my front door, flipping the light switch in the living room.
The lamp flickered on, illuminating a man sitting calmly in my cheap armchair.
He was holding a suppressed pistol and a gold FBI badge.
It was my father, the man who had supposedly died in a fiery car crash ten years ago.
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"Good job getting his absolute trust, Penny," my father said, smiling coldly as he racked the slide of his gun.
"Now, it's time to finish Larkin Steves for the Bureau."
