The auctioneer's crisp, clicking voice, magnified and relayed from the hidden speakers in the vault beneath the house's foundations, was utterly unmoved, a prelude to their final destruction.
"Lot number 45: the collection of cuneiform writings of Nebuchadnezzar from the 600 BCE era, which costs 4.2 million. The initial bid placed on this lot is 2.5 million
Elara staggered and clung to the doorframe to support herself. "He has created a trap not only to catch us but also to demolish the Thorne Gallery come what may. The only option was liquidation or failure."
However, Seraphina had already moved. The brief shock gave way to cold fury. The deep pools of contemplative blue of her eyes had been replaced by hard shards of frigidity. And she had not worked so hard to catalog the vulnerabilities of Julian St. John to be foiled by a dramatic ploy.
"The auction is online, no doubt operated through a shell company in the Southeast Asia region that manages Julian's offshore transactions," Seraphina concluded, walking into the vault. "He's going to use the unauthorized access of the vault as the legal pretext—a security breach requiring the immediate disposal of assets. He'll repurchase the lot at pennies on the dollar through anonymous buyers and own the liquidated assets clear of our names."
She kicked at one of the wooden crates stacked on the floor. The box thudded loudly. "He's not conducting the auction from this location. This is only the relay location. And we have two tasks, Elara. The first: extract the Regret of Medusa contract. The original contract. And the second?"
Elara's eyes scanned the scroll of old and cracked parchment laid out on the velvet pedestal. "That's the scroll. The genuine article. And that's only one of them. The auction…"
"The auction is noise," Seraphina shot back, her hand hovering above the contract. "He'll just begin a new and legal auction next week if we call off the auction and allow him to retain the scroll. This is a game of legal precedence, not simple larceny. A concrete example of the contract will allow us to prove the forgery, which served as bait, and his own intended scam of the MEDUSA statue when trying to sell it."
She carefully raised the scroll, encasing it in the silk of her own robes, holding it secure against her breast. The parchment was brittle, warm to the touch, and ancient beyond belief. The weight of their heritage fell across her shoulders.
"Now, the connection?" Seraphina asked, surveying the small vault. The steel and concrete walls provided no clear escape or way of communicating.
"Going once, going twice… Sold! Lot number 45 has been sold for 3.1 million.""
A collective gasp, though unspoken, passed between them as yet another priceless part of their history disappeared into Julian's net.
"The broadcast is coming from the terminal," Elara said, indicating a small, almost invisible panel installed in the back wall that would be hidden behind a maintenance grate. "Julian wouldn't install his terminal in the main area. It must be that."
Seraphina dropped to her knees and used the whistle wrench to pry the grate apart, revealing a crowded mess of blinking circuitry and a miniature industrial-grade LCD screen flickering through rapid-fire data streams. In the middle of the mess was a lone Ethernet jack that was currently connected to a stout fiber optic cable buried in the wall.
"This is it. The spine. It's directly connected to his server array, no doubt through an untraceable line," Seraphina dissected, her hands flying across the keys. "I can't just turn the power off there—an overlay secondary auction will be operating through a different server. I must relay a kill code or court order through the main news feed at the auction site."
"Can you do it from here?" Elara asked, leaning in close.
"The terminal is only for transmission. It doesn't have a keyboard interface – only the optical cable. To send the code, Elara, I must be able to connect to it directly. I must be able to access the cable hub outside of this vault area, where the line connects to the network."
Seraphina had risen to her feet, her face stern. "And that's going up."
"Lot 47: A rare example of a Venetian terrestrial globe from the sixteenth century. Price: $900,000. Starting at
The sisters looked desperately at the silent vault door that was sealed shut. They came from the loading dock number 3, but Julian's system had secured the door from the outside using the giant steel bolts. It was the final defense mechanism.
"There's no other way out," Elara said, her voice rising in panic.
"Look at the ceiling," Seraphina said, pointing up.
High above them, right up in the corner of the vaulted ceiling of the old building, there was a square of metal mesh. It looked fairly small from
"The ventilation system. It's too small for the guard, but perhaps not too small for us. The original architect always had in mind a manual extraction route," Seraphina said, grasping the wrench once again. "Elara, can you take apart the grille?"
"Yes, but it won't be silent."
Elara employed the sharp part of the wrench to pry into the slots of the grille. The dry screws protested loudly as she twisted them forcefully. The scream of the dry screws was agonizingly loud in the silent environment of the vault.
Meanwhile, Elara worked, while Seraphina examined the two large wooden boxes that sat alongside the center stand. They did not bear the usual shipping labels but featured Julian's own mark: the cruel letter 'J'.
She opened the first box by removing its lid and revealing a pile of professional-quality archival paper and dozens of blank deeds along with a frightening assortment of antique brass stamps.
"These are his tools," Seraphina whispered, her eyes going wide in horror. "He wasn't creating one contract, Elara. He was constructing the beginning of a whole fraudulent paper trail. These stamps are meant to be flawless duplicates of the wax seals of the different governments and museums that our collection has been involved with over the past one hundred years. He had intended to create dozens of invalid titles to liquidate the Gallery without ever being challenged in court."
The second box, however, had something far more disturbing inside. Seraphina ripped off the lid and looked inside. It was not a forgery kit.
Inside, sitting atop a bed of dense shock-absorbing foam, was an elaborately constructed and perfectly preserved human skull.
It was impossible—that was a museum piece, but one that they knew. It was the focal point of a contentious and uncataloged collection their father had been hiding away—the purported remains of a renowned Roman conspirator from the ancient world.
Under the skull, Seraphina discovered the handheld satellite uplink device that was military grade and strictly prohibited in the Thorne territories. This device was sufficiently compact to be carried in one's hand and
"The uplink," Seraphina whispered. "He was going to conduct the auction from the roof of this building, relaying the procedure through this untraceable link while simulating the transmission as if it originated from the terminal below. He installed the uplink in this location to guarantee that no one would ever be able to determine the source of the transmission."
Elara at last managed to break loose the ventilation grille. The screeching had a singularly metallic quality, resulting in a jagged hole in the ceiling. "We're through," Elara said. "But we must be off."
Seraphina took the skull—it was a gruesome shield—and the uplink device. "We're stealing his server, his security system, and his head start. That device will allow us to shut down the auction, and the skull will give us the proof that Julian has broken each and every protocol in the world."
They climbed through the rough opening, Seraphina from the bottom, Elara from the top, through the confining steel duct.
As they crawled through the darkness, the faint and chilling chime of the auction room was replaced by the mechanical clicking sound of the vault below.
Click.
Click.
Click.
It was the sound of the new gears engaging.
Meanwhile, there was this enormous grinding noise above—it was the hum of the main ventilation fan starting up not to provide air circulation but to grind something.
"It's the security system!" Seraphina yelled, scrambling even quicker. "He must have a sensor in the ducting. If the vault's been left open this long, the counter-protocol will be triggered!"
They scurried from the vent and onto the cold echoing floor of the sub-level just beneath the vault door. The grinding screech was building in intensity. They watched the electrical conduits which served the vault door spark and melt in a flow of molten metal. Julian wasn't just locking them in. He was destroying the evidence and closing the chamber.
However, as they were left standing there vulnerably and drained of strength, a figure emerged from the darkness at the end of the corridor.
It wasn't a guard.
It was a figure in an expensively tailored charcoal suit, its movements honed to a controlled and preternatural stillness. It isn't Julian—too lean, and the movements are far too precise. The figure has a long case of expensive-looking black metal.
The stranger halted twenty feet out, the lighting catching their face: a woman with Ice-Blond hair pulled back into a severe ponytail, her face utterly impassive, like a pricey combat mannequin.
She opened the case that was black, and what she found inside was actually surgical equipment and a compact state-of-the-art camera.
"Thorne Holdings does not value unauthorized liquidation triggers," the woman said. Her voice was a low, monotone electronic drone that had no inflection whatsoever. "Mr. Thorne demands the return of all un-cataloged artifacts and an end to unauthorized access."
She did not wait for an answer. As Seraphina raised the skull instinctively to shield herself, the woman stirred. She was not fleeing or attacking – she flowed across the concrete floor like a razor-edged human blade.
"She's not security, she's an enforcer!" Seraphina yelled, shoving Elara toward the stairwell. "Get out of there! I'll give you
Before Elara could protest, the enforcer was upon them. Seraphina swung the massive Roman skull, hitting the woman's arm, but the impact was shrugged off with terrifying effectiveness. The enforcer was unphased, turning to grab the prize with a quick hand.
Her target was not Seraphina's neck but the scroll hidden beneath the silk folds of the dress. The enforcer's fingers closed around the scroll, and she dragged it out with brutal strength.
Seraphina stood her ground, the scroll being stretched out before them. The paper was brittle from the centuries it had been around and tore apart with the sickening sound of dry threads snapping.
"Let go, Seraphina!" Elara yelled as she plunged back to grab her sister.
However, Seraphina only perceived the final crucial bit of evidence that would separate them from victory. "No! Get to the junction!"
The enforcer's final, agonizing jerk occurred. The scroll tore across, a jagged edge slicing through the middle of the precious historical document. The enforcer held a thin rectangle of the scroll in her grasp, while Seraphina found herself stumbling backward, the larger piece of the document clutched in her hands.
The enforcement officer flicked a glance at the piece of ancient parchment before casting it carelessly to the ground. "The scroll's been compromised. Mr. Thorne will learn to adapt. Next, the uplink."
She resumed her deliberate approach once again, fixated solely on the small satellite communication device Seraphina clutched in her hands. They were two women against a perfectly constructed and emotionlessweapon of war, and the evidence of Julian's crimes lay before them.
Elara had reached the stairwell and looked back. Her face was a mask of paralyzing terror. "Wait?" she asked. "Wait
"Elara, the uplink! Go to the roof!" Seraphina bellowed, hurling the large and broken main part of the scroll at the enforcer as a desperate distraction. The enforcer did not blink, just brushing the ancient document aside with one hand and taking a step towards Seraphina. He said three chilling words that turned Elara's blood to ice: "The auction house has confirmed the sale of Lot 51, the final large holding." Seraphina's eyes dropped to the torn piece of scroll on the floor—their family history in its entirety. The uplink was their only hope of preventing the debacle from happening, but the enforcer blocked their way to the stairs. "I won't let you stop us!" Seraphina yelled desperately as she turned on the satellite uplink device. The device whirred to life as its small flat antenna looked heavenward. The enforcer only smiled, a chilling gesture of practiced muscles. She raised her hand, and the heavily fortified steel security door of the vault, its surface battered and jagged from the sparks flying from its surface, began to inch its way closed, entombing Seraphina and the enforcer in their concrete box. Elara was left alone in the corridor with only the hum of the fans and the image of her sister being encased inside the wall of steel. "Elara! Go!" Seraphina's last scream was drowned out as the steel slammed shut, the lock bolts engaging with a terrible CLANG that reverberated through the basement.