Chapter 5 - THE SINS OF THE FATHER
The First Ashford Bank on Elm Street was a relic of the 1920s, a monolithic structure of limestone and iron that looked more like a fortress than a financial institution. At 3:45 in the morning, it was dark, silent, and imposing.
The Ford Taurus idled in the alley across the street.
“Russell won’t be inside,” Vincent said, checking the magazine of the pistol Dante had handed him. “He’s a coward who delegates. He’ll have a crew waiting for us in the vault. They’ll take the key, open the box, and put a bullet in our heads.”
“Then why are we going in?” Mara asked. She was sitting in the back, the leather diary zipped safely inside her coat.
“Because Russell doesn’t know we have Silas’s diary,” Vincent explained. “He thinks the only proof of his treason is inside Box 402. We have to give him the box to get your brother back. But we don't give it to him blindly.”
He turned to Dante. “You have the layout?”
Dante nodded. “The night manager is on Russell’s payroll. He’ll have disabled the alarms and left the side service door open. The vault is on the sub-level.”
Vincent looked at Mara. “You stay in the car. Dante and I will go in, clear the room, and secure Toby.”
“No,” Mara said flatly.
Vincent frowned. “Mara, this isn’t a diner. These men are professionals. If bullets start flying—”
“I’m not staying in the car,” Mara interrupted, her eyes burning with a fierce, quiet intensity. “Toby is all I have left in this world. And Russell’s men killed my father. I am going in.”
Vincent studied her face. He saw the iron in her spine. He didn’t argue. He reached into his coat and handed her a small, heavy snub-nosed revolver.
“Safety is off,” Vincent said. “Keep your finger outside the trigger guard until you’re ready to fire. Point and squeeze. Don't hesitate.”
Mara took the cold metal. It felt unnaturally heavy, but she gripped it tight. “I won’t.”
They moved out of the car, sprinting across the rain-slicked street.
The side service door was slightly ajar, just as Dante predicted. They slipped inside, entering a long, marble hallway that smelled of floor wax and old paper. The silence was absolute.
Vincent took the lead, his gun raised, his injured arm held tight against his ribs. Dante covered the rear.
They descended a sweeping marble staircase to the sub-level.
The massive steel door of the main vault was wide open. Inside, the walls were lined with thousands of small, rectangular brass doors.
Standing in the center of the vault, illuminated by a single overhead fluorescent light, was a man in a tailored suit. He was holding a suppressed submachine gun. Sitting on a folding chair next to him, bound and gagged with duct tape, was Toby.
“Toby!” Mara gasped, stepping out from behind Vincent.
The teenager’s eyes widened in sheer panic, his face bruised and pale. He strained against the ropes.
“Ah,” the man in the suit smiled. “The waitress and the dead boss walking. Russell sends his regards.”
“Where is Russell?” Vincent demanded, his weapon leveled at the man’s chest.
“Somewhere safe, waiting for my phone call,” the man smirked. “Toss the key on the floor, Vincent. Kick it over. And maybe I let the kid walk out of here before I put you down.”
Vincent reached into his pocket and pulled out the tarnished brass key. But he didn’t throw it.
“You’re a smart guy, aren’t you, Marcus?” Vincent asked the gunman.
Marcus narrowed his eyes. “I do my job.”
“Russell is paying you to secure the ledger in Box 402 so he can take over the family,” Vincent said smoothly. “But tell me, Marcus... if Russell takes over, who do you think he’s going to promote to Underboss? You? Or Dante?”
The air in the vault suddenly froze.
Mara turned her head, confusion washing over her.
Behind her, she heard the distinct, metallic click of a gun hammer being pulled back.
She slowly looked over her shoulder.
Dante was standing five feet away. His gun wasn't pointed at Marcus.
It was pointed directly at the back of Vincent’s head.
“Dante?” Mara whispered, her blood turning to ice.
“Russell pays better, Boss,” Dante said. His voice was completely devoid of emotion, a chilling contrast to the loyalty he had faked all night. “And he doesn’t ask us to play businessmen. He lets us be what we are.”
Vincent didn’t flinch. He didn’t even turn around. He just stared at Marcus.
“Answer One, Open Two,” Mara’s mind screamed. The traitor wasn't just Silas. Silas was the pawn. Dante was the knight.
“Take her gun, Dante,” Marcus ordered, stepping forward to grab Toby by the hair, pressing the barrel of his submachine gun to the boy's temple. “Then shoot Vincent.”
“Drop it, Mara,” Dante ordered.
Mara’s hands shook. She looked at Toby, who was sobbing through the duct tape. She looked at Vincent, who stood perfectly still, his broad back an impossible shield between her and the bullet.
She slowly lowered her arm, letting the heavy revolver slip from her fingers. It clattered loudly onto the marble floor.
“Good girl,” Dante sneered. “Now kick the key over, Vincent.”
Vincent tossed the brass key. It slid across the polished floor, stopping at Marcus’s feet.
Marcus knelt down, keeping his gun trained on Toby, and picked up the key. He walked over to the wall of deposit boxes, found 402, and slid the key into the lock.
He turned it. The brass door popped open.
Marcus reached inside.
His face contorted in confusion. He pulled his hand out.
He wasn't holding a ledger. He wasn't holding blackmail documents.
He was holding a tarnished, silver heart-shaped locket.
“What the hell is this?” Marcus snapped, looking at Vincent.
Mara gasped. She recognized that locket instantly. It was her mother’s. The one she was buried with ten years ago.
“That’s the thing about my father,” Vincent said softly, his lips curving into a cold, terrifying smile. “He never trusted anyone. Not Silas. Not Russell. And certainly not you, Dante.”
Vincent turned slightly, locking eyes with Mara.
“Drop,” Vincent commanded.
Mara threw herself to the floor.
Vincent spun with blinding speed. He didn’t reach for his gun. He reached inside his ruined suit jacket, pulled a small, silver object, and hurled it directly at the massive steel hinge of the vault door.
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It was a flashbang grenade.
The explosion of light and sound was catastrophic.
