Chapter 4 - The Siege of First NationalRichard didn't panic. He moved instantly, placing his broad body between the entrance speaker and where Emma and I stood near the table.
"Daniel," Richard spoke into the vault’s wall microphone, his voice deadpan, cold, and hard as granite. "You are standing inside a federal banking facility. If you think trapping us in a vault will stop the board meeting at nine o'clock, you've lost your mind."
A quiet, arrogant laugh echoed through the speakers.
"The board meeting has already been moved to 8:30 AM, big brother," Daniel sneered. "I presented a forged medical power of attorney showing you were mentally unfit following a sudden breakdown in the west ballroom last night. The board is voting on the liquidation sale right now."
"You won't get away with this, Daniel," Richard stated coldly.
"I already have, Richard," Daniel replied. "By the time the bank technicians manually override the vault lock in two hours, the sale will be finalized, the funds will be transferred to my accounts in Dubai, and you'll spend the rest of your life in a private facility in Vermont."
The intercom clicked off.
Silence returned to the red-lit vault.
I clutched Emma tightly against my chest, my breathing short and fast. "Richard... what do we do?! We can't stay in here for two hours!"
Richard walked back to the viewing table, picking up the silver encrypted hard drive and the micro-tape. He connected the drive to his satellite laptop, tapping a sequence of high-level administrative bypass codes.
"Daniel built his corporate trap using the bank's local network," Richard murmured, his long fingers flying across the keyboard with terrifying speed. "He forgot that I built the bank's digital security infrastructure ten years ago."
Within thirty seconds, the laptop screen illuminated with a green status bar: SATELLITE LINK ESTABLISHED — CALDWELL GLOBAL BOARDROOM.
Richard plugged his private phone into the laptop, linking the vault's live feed directly to the primary presentation screen inside the Caldwell Global executive boardroom three miles away.
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He reached for the microphone headset.
"Claire," Richard looked at me, his gray eyes flashing with cold, victorious fire. "Hold Emma. It's time to run a board meeting from three floors underground."
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