Chapter 9 - FOUR MINUTES
The car was still six blocks from Whitmore headquarters.
We had four minutes.
“Can Claire stop it remotely?” I asked.
Evelyn answered immediately.
“Yes, but she needs access to the corporate transaction portal.”
Claire opened her laptop.
Her login failed.
Again.
Failed.
“Henry locked me out.”
Samuel leaned over.
“Try trustee credentials.”
She did.
A new page appeared.
TRUST AUTHORITY PENDING CORPORATE SYNCHRONIZATION.
“How long?”
Evelyn sounded frustrated.
“Five to ten minutes.”
“We have three.”
I called Nora.
She answered on the first ring.
“Mr. Whitmore?”
“Where is Henry?”
“Boardroom.”
“Can you get into the executive transaction office?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“He changed the locks.”
Of course he had.
“Who has access?”
“Henry.”
“Anyone else?”
“Security.”
“Chief?”
“Paul Jennings.”
“Put him on.”
“He left twenty minutes ago.”
Samuel looked at me.
“Left?”
Nora lowered her voice.
“Henry fired him.”
Two minutes.
Claire stared at the screen.
“Dad.”
“What?”
“The sale is open.”
A progress bar appeared.
TRANSFER PROCESSING.
Samuel cursed.
“Once it clears, can it be reversed?”
Evelyn answered.
“Not easily.”
“Can we interrupt the network?”
Nora heard the question.
“The building has redundant systems.”
“What if we shut down the entire data center?”
“You’d interrupt every company system.”
“How?”
“There’s an emergency cutoff.”
“Where?”
“Basement operations.”
I looked at our driver.
“Stop the car.”
“What?”
“Stop.”
We were one block from headquarters.
I opened the door before the car fully settled.
Claire ran with me.
Samuel followed.
One minute.
The lobby security officer stood.
“Mr. Whitmore.”
“I need basement access.”
“Sir, I have instructions not to—”
Claire stepped forward.
“I am the controlling trustee of Whitmore Family Trust.”
The officer blinked.
“I need you to move.”
He looked at me.
Then at Claire.
Then at the documents on her phone.
Thirty seconds.
He opened the gate.
We ran.
I hadn’t run that hard in years.
My lungs burned.
We reached the basement operations door.
Locked.
Samuel slammed his palm against the reader.
Nothing.
“Richard!”
Claire pointed toward a red emergency panel.
I broke the plastic cover with my elbow.
An alarm screamed.
Inside was a master power isolation switch.
The warning label was clear.
EMERGENCY USE ONLY.
I pulled it.
The building went dark.
For half a second, there was perfect silence.
Then emergency lights came on.
I leaned against the wall, breathing hard.
Claire looked at her screen.
The sale portal had disconnected.
Samuel laughed.
“We stopped it.”
Then backup power activated.
Servers began restarting.
“How long until systems return?”
“Maybe three minutes,” Claire said.
“Then we have three minutes to get upstairs.”
We took the stairs.
Twenty-seven floors.
We made it six before I realized that at sixty-eight, pride could actually kill a man.
“Elevators,” I gasped.
“Restarting.”
Claire grabbed my arm.
“Dad, stay here.”
“No.”
“You can barely breathe.”
“I’m fine.”
“You are absolutely not fine.”
Samuel pointed upward.
“I’ll go with Claire.”
I hated it.
Which meant it was probably the correct decision.
I nodded.
“Go.”
Claire kissed my cheek.
Then she and Samuel continued upward.
I sat on the stair.
My chest pounded.
For the first time that day, I wondered whether Henry’s plan had counted on this too.
Push me.
Stress me.
Make me react.
Maybe he didn’t need a fake medical crisis.
Maybe he intended to create a real one.
My phone rang.
Henry.
I answered.
“You cut the power.”
“Yes.”
He laughed.
“I underestimated you.”
“You underestimated my daughter.”
“Claire has always been an inconvenience.”
“Don’t say her name.”
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The temper.”
I heard typing on his end.
“You’ve spent your entire life convincing people you are the calmest man in the room.”
“I don’t need to convince anyone.”
“You do now.”
His voice became almost friendly.
“That is the problem with reputation, Richard.”
“One bad day can destroy fifty good years.”
“You’re going to prison.”
“Maybe.”
His lack of concern bothered me.
“You think this is over.”
“It is.”
“No.”
He sighed.
“You’re still looking at the company.”
“What should I be looking at?”
“Your family.”
My chest tightened.
“Claire is with Samuel.”
Henry laughed.
That sound chilled me.
“What?”
“You really never figured Samuel out?”
I stood.
“What are you talking about?”
“Forty-one years of friendship.”
“Stop.”
“And you never asked why he was always available.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“You planted his cuff link.”
“Did I?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you to wonder.”
I hated him for that because it worked.
“Samuel helped me today.”
“Of course he did.”
“What does that mean?”
“Good betrayals require trust.”
The line disconnected.
I stared at the phone.
Then I ran upward again.
My legs screamed.
At the twelfth floor, the elevators restarted.
I entered one.
Twenty-seven.
The doors opened.
Employees stood in darkened hallways.
Alarms flashed.
I moved toward the boardroom.
A woman came running toward me.
Nora.
“Mr. Whitmore.”
“Where’s Claire?”
“She went inside.”
“With Samuel?”
“Yes.”
My stomach dropped.
I reached the boardroom.
The doors were locked.
I pounded.
“Claire!”
Nothing.
“Samuel!”
No answer.
Then the projector inside the room came on.
Through the glass wall, I saw Henry standing beside the conference table.
Claire stood opposite him.
May you like
Samuel stood behind her.
And he was holding a gun.
