Chapter 3: Cracks in the Foundation
Chapter 3: Cracks in the Foundation
Sirens wailed in the distance. The muffled, distorted sound penetrated the thick walls of the museum. The police had arrived outside.
"Hear that?" Grant laughed, a desperate, hysterical sound. "They're here for you, Mara! You're done. Open the doors and maybe I'll tell them to go easy on you."
Mara tapped her earpiece. "Status of the exterior?"
"NYPD is on site," the calm voice of her security chief replied in her ear. "They are attempting to breach the outer perimeter. We are denying access under protocol 4-Alpha."
Mara nodded. She turned her attention to Commissioner Davis.
"Commissioner," she called out. "Your men are outside. They're probably looking for a way in. Would you like to tell them to stand down, or would you prefer I send this video to the FBI field office first?"
Davis swallowed hard. He looked at Grant, then back to Mara. The allegiance that had held this corrupt circle together for a decade was beginning to fracture.
"I... I can't communicate with them," Davis stammered. "You jammed the signals."
"I'll give you a hardline," Mara offered, gesturing to a sleek black telephone on the curator's desk. "Call them. Tell them this is a private security matter and they have no jurisdiction until dawn. Or else your career ends tonight, and your pension goes with it."
Grant stared at the Commissioner, his eyes wide. "Davis, don't you dare! My father—"
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"Your father isn't here, Grant!" Davis snapped, his panic overriding his loyalty. He rushed to the desk and picked up the phone.
As the Commissioner ordered the police to stand down, Grant realized the terrifying truth. His money couldn't buy him out of a room where his currency was no longer accepted.
