Chapter 14 - The Vault of Reckoning
The morning sun broke through the smog of Helena as Clara slipped through the employee entrance of the First National Bank. Hawk was hidden beneath a tarp in an abandoned tool shed near the rail switch, barely conscious. Clara had thirty minutes before the bleeding turned fatal.
Her clothes were torn, her hands covered in soot and blood, but she held her head high as she approached the counter of the safety deposit vault in the basement.
A middle-aged man with thinning gray hair and gold spectacles looked up in shock. ""May I help you, miss? You look like you've been in an accident.""
""My name is Clara Vance,"" she said clearly, her voice steady despite the trembling in her limbs. ""I need to see Mr. Henderson. Now.""
The banker's face went completely pale. He immediately locked the security gate behind him and ushered her into a private office paneled in dark walnut. An elderly gentleman with sharp blue eyes stood up from behind a massive mahogany desk.
""Clara?"" Henderson gasped, adjusting his glasses. ""Dear God... you have your mother's eyes. Thomas told me you might come one day.""
""I have the key,"" Clara said, slamming the brass piece onto the desk. ""Box 0842. And Hawk is dying by the rail tracks.""
Henderson wasted no time. He buzzed his private security team and grabbed a dual master key from a heavy wall safe. ""My driver is already dispatched for Hawk. Let's open the box.""
Together, they descended into the chilled, fortified vault beneath the bank. Henderson turned his key, Clara turned hers, and the heavy brass door swung open. Inside lay an unsealed manila envelope containing bank transfer receipts totaling fifty million dollars, certified surveillance photos of Silas Vance meeting with known cartel enforcers, and a recorded confession signed by three state senators.
Clara pulled the documents out, her hands shaking with triumph.
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Suddenly, the heavy steel vault door began to swing shut from the outside. Henderson spun around in horror, only to be struck in the chest by a silenced round. He collapsed onto the marble floor.
Standing in the vault doorway, holding a smoking pistol with a cold, triumphant smile, was Silas Vance.
