Chapter 85 Transit Hub
The car engine was the only sound on the highway as Alex pushed the sedan through the fading darkness, and the city skyline began to rise up ahead of them like a wall of gray concrete.
Sarah sat in the front seat with her hands folded in her lap, her eyes fixed on the road, while Mark sat in the back with his laptop open, his face illuminated by the blue light of the tracking software.
They didn't talk about the boathouse or the fire at the studio, they only spoke about the minutes they were losing and the distance between the Vane estate and the central station. Alex drove with a steady, aggressive focus, weaving through the early morning delivery trucks as the first morning commuters started to clog the entrances to the downtown district.
"We are five minutes out, the transit hub is already showing heavy foot traffic on the security feeds, so we need to move fast before Helena’s team decides to make a scene in public," Mark said, his fingers tapping a fast rhythm on the keyboard as he monitored the GPS signal from the brass key.
"I will go to the locker alone, Sarah, you and Mark stay near the exit in case the security guards try to block the perimeter," Alex said, his voice was a low command that didn't leave room for an argument.
"No, we go in as a unit, because if Helena is there, she is not going to be looking for a conversation, she is going to be looking for a way to finish this," Sarah replied, she looked at him and her expression was flat and determined.
"We are a team, Alex, and we are not giving her the chance to isolate you again."
They pulled into the parking garage and ran toward the main concourse, the sound of their boots echoing off the tiled walls as they navigated through the crowds of people heading for the trains.
The transit hub was a massive, high-ceilinged room filled with the smell of stale coffee and the hum of a thousand voices, and they found the row of lockers tucked behind the ticket booths. Alex pulled the brass key from his pocket and slid it into the lock of unit four-twelve, his breath catching for a second before he turned the metal and pulled the small door open.
The locker was empty of paper, there were no Vane trust documents and there were no maternal deeds, there was only a small, black digital recorder sitting in the center of the metal shelf. Alex picked it up and hit the play button, and the voice that came through the small speaker was not the voice of a professional executive, it was the voice of a woman who had finally lost her grip on reality.
"You really thought Dad would just give you the win, didn't you, Alex? You thought he was coming to your rescue because he finally saw how much better you are than me," Helena’s voice said, and she let out a short, sharp laugh that made Sarah’s skin crawl. "He didn't give you a key to a fortune, he gave you a key to a distraction, because while you were racing to the station, I was busy picking up Councilman Thorne from his breakfast meeting."
"She has Thorne? He’s the only one who can verify the zoning bribes," Mark said, his voice was tight as he stepped closer to the locker.
"The documents are safe for now, but the Councilman is currently reconsidering his desire to testify against the Harrington name, and if I don't hear that the audit has been canceled by noon, he won't be coming back to his office at all," Helena continued on the recording. "Don't bother calling the police, Alex, because by the time they find us, the Harrington legacy will be the only thing left standing."
The recording ended with a click, and Alex gripped the recorder until the plastic casing started to groan under the pressure of his hand. He looked at Sarah, and she saw the raw, lethal anger in his eyes, but she also saw the realization that they had been outplayed by the very person they had been trying to outrun.
"She is in the industrial zone, the old Harrington warehouse near the docks, it’s the only place she owns that isn't under a corporate audit yet," Mark said, he was already typing on his laptop, his eyes moving over a map of the city’s power grid. "The electricity was just toggled on at the site three minutes ago, she is there, and she is alone with him."
"We are not waiting for the Vane lawyers, and we are not waiting for a signature from a judge," Sarah said, her voice was a low, steady line of authority as she turned toward the exit.
"Mark, you lead the way, use the service roads so we don't get caught in the morning rush."
They ran back to the car and the drive toward the industrial district was a blur of gray buildings and rusted fences.
Mark directed Alex through a maze of narrow streets, using his knowledge of the construction zones to bypass the main traffic lights, and Sarah used her phone to coordinate with the Vane legal team to freeze every personal account Helena had. She didn't ask for permission, she just gave the orders with a cold, sharp efficiency that showed she was no longer a victim of the Harrington games.
"The accounts are locked, she can't move a cent out of the country, and the Vane lawyers are already filing a kidnapping report with the federal authorities," Sarah said, she closed her phone and looked at the two men. "She is cut off, she has nowhere to go once she leaves that warehouse."
"She’s not planning on leaving, she’s planning on burning the bridge behind her," Alex said, his hands were tight on the steering wheel as he turned onto the final stretch of road that led to the waterfront.
They reached the industrial site, a massive brick building with broken windows and a heavy steel door that looked like it hadn't been opened in years. Alex killed the engine and they stepped out into the cold, damp air of the docks, the smell of salt and old oil hitting them as they walked toward the entrance. They were a balanced machine, moving with a lethal efficiency that didn't need Richard’s guidance or his rules, and they were ready to finish the war on their own terms.
"Wait, something is wrong," Mark said, he stopped ten feet from the door and looked at the perimeter of the building.
Before Alex could respond, the sound of sirens filled the narrow street, and four city police cruisers pulled around the corner, their blue and red lights flashing against the brick walls.
They didn't go for the warehouse door, they pulled a tight circle around the sedan, and six officers stepped out with their hands on their holsters. The lead officer, a man with a tired face and a badge that looked too shiny for the district, walked toward them with a piece of paper in his hand.
"Alex Harrington, Mark Hayes, stay exactly where you are," the officer shouted, his voice was loud and carried over the sound of the idling engines.
"We are here to stop a kidnapping, Helena Harrington has a city councilman inside that building," Alex said, stepping forward, but the officer blocked his path.
"We aren't here for the councilman, we are here on a direct order from the District Attorney’s office," the officer said, he looked at Sarah and his expression was one of official, cold duty. "Sarah Hayes, I have a warrant here for your immediate arrest on charges of grand larceny and corporate espionage, and I am instructed to take you into custody without bail."
Sarah looked at the warrant and then at the warehouse door, realizing that Helena had used her last remaining minutes to file a counter-strike that put the police between the trio and the truth.
"The audit files are in the car, and the evidence of the forgery is on that recorder," Mark said, but the officers were already moving in to separate them.
"You can tell it to the judge, Ms. Hayes, right now, you’re coming with us," the officer said, reaching for his handcuffs.