Chapter 14 - THE MIDNIGHT DEADLINE
The roar of a heavy diesel engine shattered the neighborhood calm.
Claire lunged across the kitchen, scooping Theo up from his chair before he could ask what was happening. His bowl of cereal clattered to the floor, splashing milk across the floral rug.
"Mommy? What’s wrong?" Theo whimpered, burying his face into her neck, feeling the violent tremors running through her body.
"Shh, baby, look at me," Claire whispered, her voice fierce with maternal steel. "We’re playing a game. Remember the hide-and-seek game we played when the storm hit the harbor? You stay quiet as a little mouse, okay? No matter what you hear."
Outside, a sleek, matte-black Yukon XL had pulled up directly onto their front lawn, crushing the hydrangea bushes Claire had planted three weeks ago. The tinted windows remained rolled up, reflecting the gray coastal sky like obsidian mirrors.
Daniel was already on his feet, his initial shock transforming into an animalistic fury. He sprinted to the pantry, pulling down a locked metal box from the top shelf. With practiced fingers, he spun the combination lock and pulled out a Glock 19, racking the slide with a sharp, metallic *clack*.
"Arthur, how long do we have?" Daniel hissed, keeping his back pressed against the wall beside the front window.
Arthur was staring at his gold wristwatch, his skin gray. "Julian’s offshore trust fund expires at midnight tonight. Under the terms of the Mercer charter, if Julian cannot present a direct, living blood heir before the board of trustees in Halifax by twelve o'clock, the entire four-billion-dollar empire is liquidated and transferred to the federal court receivership. If he has Theo, he retains total control, access to the private medical clinics, and immunity through his shell corporations."
"He doesn't want the boy's love," Claire said, clutching Theo tighter as she backed toward the rear kitchen exit. "He needs Theo alive until midnight to sign the trust over, and then he carves him up for his marrow."
"Exactly," Arthur said, unhooking his car keys. "Take my car. The license plates are registered to a dead company in New Hampshire. The Yukon outside is just spotters. The strike team won't move until Julian gives the green light, and Julian likes to watch."
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Suddenly, the front window shattered.
A high-velocity tear-gas canister crashed through the glass, bouncing off the dining room table and hissing a dense, suffocating cloud of white chemical smoke into the room.
