Chapter 6 - Under Siege
Above us, the faint, muffled thuds of explosions and heavy gunfire rattled the dust from the concrete ceiling of the vault.
Ten minutes felt like ten hours. Lucy sat quietly, clutching the silver locket in her small hand, while Grimm remained on high alert, his dark ears constantly adjusting to the noises echoing through the structure above.
Suddenly, the heavy iron handle of the vault door rattled violently.
Marcus instantly raised his weapon, taking cover behind a steel storage crate. "Get behind me, Claire!"
CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.
Someone was using a heavy sledgehammer or an industrial cutter on the outer locking mechanism. Spark showers hissed beneath the crack of the door.
"They're cutting through!" Marcus shouted.
Grimm stood up, his jaw dropping into that terrifying, dark snarling position. Every muscle in his massive frame was coiled tight, ready to spring.
The metal locking bar groaned under immense pressure, then finally snapped with a loud POP.
The heavy door was kicked open.
A tall figure stepped into the doorway, bathed in the harsh light of the emergency flares burning in the hallway behind him. He was covered in soot, his dark suit torn, holding a smoking pistol in his right hand.
It was Vincent.
Behind him, the corridor was quiet, filled with lingering smoke and settled dust.
Vincent took one step into the vault, his eyes searching the dark room until they landed on me and Lucy. The terrifying, murderous aura surrounding him instantly vanished, replaced by an overwhelming look of relief.
"It’s over," Vincent said, his voice quiet and raspy.
Marcus lowered his gun, letting out a massive sigh. "Nolan?"
"Nolan is in custody with federal agents," Vincent said, walking slowly into the room. "The Moretti syndicate was swept up in a coordinated raid across three states twenty minutes ago. My legal team and the FBI have spent six months building the wiretap cases. Nolan thought he was staging a coup. He was actually walking into a joint task force trap."
Vincent stopped two feet away from us. He looked down at Grimm, who slowly lowered his guard, walked up to Vincent, and bumped his heavy snout against Vincent’s leg.
Vincent reached down, his large, scarred hand gently stroking the dog’s head. For the first time since I had met him, Vincent smiled—a real, genuine smile that reached his eyes.
"Good boy, Buster," Vincent murmured softly. "You kept them safe."
Grimm let out a soft whine and leaned against Vincent’s knee.
Vincent then looked at me, his gaze softening completely. "I’m sorry you had to go through this, Claire. I promised Thomas I would protect his family, and tonight I brought the war to your doorstep."
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I stood up, stepping past Marcus, and walked right up to Vincent. Without thinking, without worrying about boundaries or boss-employee protocols, I reached out and put my hand on his arm.
"You came back for us," I said, looking into his eyes. "You ended the war, Vincent. You saved us."
