Chapter 88 We're Clear
The private line on the desk continued to hiss with static after Helena’s voice cut out, and Alex stood over the phone with his jaw locked, his eyes darting toward the heavy wooden door of the office.
He didn't waste time on a response to his sister, he simply reached into the desk drawer and pulled out a manual override switch for the building’s security, flipping it until he heard the heavy deadbolts click into place downstairs.
Sarah was already rolling up the blueprints for the medical clinic, her movements fast and sharp, while Mark stood by the window, peering through the slats of the blinds at a pair of dark sedans that had just pulled up to the curb of the quiet North End street.
"They aren't London creditors, Alex, the plates on those cars are local and the men getting out are carrying the same gear the Blackwood team used at the construction site," Mark said, his voice was a low growl of focus as he checked the battery on his laptop.
"Helena didn't call to warn us, she called to pin our location so they could finish what they started at the warehouse."
"They are after the iron box, they think the journals and the land deeds are the only things keeping the trust from a total liquidation," Sarah said, she walked to the center of the room and looked at Mark, her expression flat and business-like.
"You are the Trustee now, Mark, and the first thing you need to do is prove to these people that the Harrington rules don't apply to a Hayes."
"I am already on it, Mom, I’m pushing the first decree to the Harrington internal server right now, and I’m blind-copying the union heads and the city press corps," Mark said, his fingers flying across the keys with a lethal efficiency.
"I’m freezing every executive bonus, I’m suspending Helena’s power of attorney, and I’m redirecting the Veridian contingency fund to rebuild your studio and pay the back wages for the crews Blackwood tried to shake down."
"The moment that hits the wires, the board will lose their leverage with the creditors, because the company’s value will be tied to your signature, not the family name," Alex said, he moved to the window to stand beside Mark, his hand resting on his friend’s shoulder in a silent show of peer-level support.
"You’re taking the bullets away from them before they even reach the door."
"I’m doing more than that, I’m announcing that the Harrington Group is now a Vane-held non-profit development firm, effective immediately," Mark added, he hit the enter key with a final, decisive click and let out a long breath.
"The war is over because I just gave the spoils away to the people who actually built the city."
The sound of a heavy blow echoed from the hallway below, followed by the splintering of wood as the front door of the building was forced open, and Sarah didn't wait for the men to reach the stairs.
She grabbed the heavy iron box and shoved it into the back of a small floor safe that Richard had hidden under a loose floorboard, locking it with the silver key before Alex could even ask what she was doing.
"We aren't fighting them for the box, we are letting them in so they can see that the room is empty and the decree is already live," Sarah told them, she stood up and straightened her shirt, her posture authoritative and grounded. "Alex, you handle the legal talk, Mark, you stay on that laptop until the press confirms the upload, and I will handle the man in charge."
The office door was kicked open a second later, and three men in tactical gear burst into the room with their weapons drawn, but they stopped when they saw the trio sitting calmly around the drafting table as if they were in the middle of a routine design meeting.
The leader of the group, a man with a scarred face and a cold, professional stare, looked at the empty desk and then at the laptop Mark was holding.
"Where are the maternal deeds and the trust keys? Helena said they were in the North End office," the man demanded.
"The maternal deeds are in a Vane vault that you will never find, and the trust keys have already been used to dissolve the very company you think you’re working for," Alex said, he stood up and walked toward the man, his height and his Harrington intensity making the soldier hesitate for a fraction of a second. "My father is at his cabin, my sister is on a plane, and the man sitting in that chair is the sole Trustee of every asset you were sent to seize."
"I don't care about the board, I care about the contract," the man hissed, stepping closer to Alex.
"There is no contract, because the Harrington Group no longer has a payroll department that recognizes your firm," Mark said, he turned the laptop screen toward the man, showing the scrolling news ticker that was already picking up the story of the Hayes Decree.
"As of three minutes ago, your firm is being investigated for corporate racketeering, and if you don't walk out of this room right now, the city police—who are currently on their way to protect a Vane property—will be the ones you have to explain those guns to."
The man looked at the screen, and then at Sarah, who was watching him with a smart, observant silence that made him realize he was standing in a room with people who were much more dangerous than a Harrington heir. He knew the game was up, and he knew that Helena had sent him on a suicide mission to save a legacy that had already been dismantled by a twenty-two-year-old kid and a designer from the suburbs.
"We’re clear," the man said into his radio, and he gestured for his team to back out of the room, their heavy boots thudding on the stairs as they beat a fast retreat to the sedans.
Sarah felt the tension leave her shoulders as the sound of the car engines faded away, and she looked at the two men she loved, realizing that they had finally found a balance that didn't involve Richard’s rules.