Chapter 5 - The Serpents Assemble
Julian moved to the kitchen window, parting the heavy linen blind by a fraction of an inch.
In the gravel courtyard outside, two sleek black executive SUVs idle silently in the morning drizzle. Stepping out of the lead vehicle was Gregory Ross, the chief legal counsel for Vance Industries and the board's senior director. Behind him, two burly men in nondescript windbreakers stood with the unmistakable discipline of private military contractors.
"They aren't here to negotiate," Julian observed, his jaw set like granite. "Ross holds thirty percent of the non-voting stock. If I die intestate without an heir, the corporate charter reverts all administrative control directly to the board."
"They'll stage it as an accident," Clara said, standing up despite the thbbing ache in her skull. "The oil on the stairs. An altercation between you and the private nurse. A tragic struggle."
"They'll have to find us first," Julian said, grabbing a set of rusted brass keys from a peg behind the pantry door. "The original estate was built during the late nineteenth century. The coal delivery tunnels run directly beneath the wine cellar to the old carriage house near the outer woods."
Clara looked at the door leading back into the hallway, then down at the tray of dropped medical supplies she had carried into the pantry. A grim resolve settled over her features.
"Not yet," she said firmly.
Julian turned, surprised. "Clara, you're injured. Every second we waste—"
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"They expect a helpless nurse and a cornered street kid," she countered, picking up a heavy bottle of industrial degreaser and a roll of heavy copper wire from the maintenance cabinet. "If we run into the woods, their contractors will hunt us down with thermal optics before we reach the highway. We take their advantages away first."
For the first time that morning, a dark, genuine smirk broke through Julian’s grim demeanor. "Remind me never to cross a Boston nurse."
