Chapter 8 - The Coup on the Forty-Second FloorAt 11:52 the next morning, the commission began arriving.
Five families.
Twenty-three senior representatives.
Security filled Steeves Tower.
Thomas knew that.
Which meant security was part of the plan.
Penelope stood inside the surveillance room with Larkin.
“We cancel.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because Thomas expects cancellation once we discover the warehouse.”
Penelope pointed at the screens.
“If we cancel, he disappears.”
“So?”
“So Martin disappears with him.”
She looked at Larkin.
“This is our opportunity.”
“To do what?”
“Let them believe the meeting is proceeding.”
Larkin studied her.
“And?”
“Empty the conference room.”
A slow understanding entered his eyes.
At noon, the commission appeared to assemble on Floor 42.
In reality, the senior representatives had been moved to Floor 38 through service elevators.
The conference room contained 12 armed Steeves soldiers.
Penelope remained in surveillance.
Larkin refused to leave her.
At 12:07, the first alarm activated.
Fire suppression.
Floor 41.
At 12:08, elevators shut down.
At 12:09, internal communications failed.
Penelope looked at Larkin.
“Here we go.”
Four men entered through a maintenance stairwell.
Not Thomas.
Mercenaries.
Security intercepted them.
Gunfire erupted.
Penelope flinched.
Larkin noticed.
She did not pretend otherwise.
“I hate guns.”
“So do I.”
She looked at him.
“You own hundreds.”
“I hate taxes too.”
Despite everything, she laughed once.
Then another alarm.
Basement.
A black SUV had breached the service entrance.
Thomas appeared on camera.
Penelope leaned toward the monitor.
“There.”
He wore body armor.
Six men followed him.
Then Martin Vale stepped from the passenger side.
Larkin became still.
Martin wore a suit.
No armor.
No weapon visible.
He looked like a lawyer arriving for lunch.
“That arrogant bastard.”
Penelope watched.
“He thinks he already won.”
They entered the service elevator.
Penelope tracked them.
“Floor 42.”
Larkin checked his weapon.
Penelope grabbed his sleeve.
“Remember.”
“Alive.”
“Both.”
Larkin looked at her.
“I promise Thomas nothing.”
“Larkin.”
“I promise I will try.”
It was the most she would get.
Thomas reached Floor 42 at 12:16.
He stepped into the corridor expecting chaos.
Instead, the lights came on.
Penelope’s voice emerged through the intercom.
“Hello, Thomas.”
He stopped.
Martin’s face changed.
Thomas looked toward the camera.
“You.”
Penelope sat before the microphone.
“Yes.”
“You should be with the commission.”
“They moved.”
Thomas looked at Martin.
Martin understood first.
“It’s a trap.”
Doors locked behind them.
Steel security shutters dropped.
Thomas raised his gun.
Larkin took the microphone.
“You really should have learned accounting.”
Thomas stared at the camera.
“Come out.”
“No.”
“You hiding behind her now?”
Larkin smiled.
“No.”
A door opened at the far end of the corridor.
Larkin stepped through.
Penelope swore.
“That was not the plan.”
He removed his jacket.
Thomas laughed.
“There he is.”
Martin stepped backward.
Thomas raised his weapon.
Larkin fired first.
The shot hit Thomas’s shoulder.
His gun fell.
Steeves security flooded the corridor.
Martin dropped to his knees immediately.
Thomas did not.
He charged.
Larkin met him.
The fight was brutal.
Family fights usually were.
Thomas hit Larkin across the jaw.
Larkin drove him into the wall.
Thomas struck again.
Years of resentment exploded physically.
“You gave her everything!”
Thomas shouted.
Larkin hit him.
“No.”
Another strike.
“She earned it.”
Thomas laughed through blood.
“You think she loves you?”
Larkin stopped.
Thomas saw the opening.
“She loves power.”
He swung.
Larkin blocked.
“She was nothing before you.”
Penelope heard every word through the surveillance system.
Something inside her went cold.
She left the room.
By the time she reached the corridor, Thomas was on his knees.
Larkin stood over him.
“Say it again.”
Thomas spat blood.
“She was a secretary.”
Penelope walked forward.
Thomas saw her.
His smile widened.
“There she is.”
Penelope stopped several feet away.
Thomas laughed.
“You think that dress at the gala changed what you are?”
Penelope looked at him.
“No.”
She stepped closer.
“It changed what you could see.”
Thomas’s smile faded.
“I was always this woman.”
Silence.
“You were simply too stupid to notice.”
Thomas stared.
Penelope turned toward Martin.
The older man remained restrained beside the wall.
“You, however, noticed.”
Martin looked at her.
“That was why you were afraid.”
“I was never afraid of you.”
Penelope smiled.
“You burned a medical residence because of spreadsheets.”
Martin’s face tightened.
“I would call that fear.”
The commission reconvened at 3:00 p.m.
Thomas sat at one end of the table under guard.
Martin sat beside him.
Penelope stood at the screen.
She presented everything.
The theft.
The shell companies.
The surveillance.
The attempted transfer interception.
The fire.
The coup.
No emotion.
Only evidence.
When she finished, silence filled the room.
An elderly commission member named Salvatore Conti looked at Larkin.
“What do you want?”
Larkin looked toward Penelope.
That gesture did not go unnoticed.
She answered.
“Martin Vale is removed from all commission functions.”
Martin closed his eyes.
“Every account under his influence will be audited.”
She continued.
“Every property connected to Thomas Dixon will be seized.”
Thomas laughed bitterly.
“And me?”
Penelope looked at him.
“You wanted relevance.”
She closed the folder.
“You will receive the opposite.”
Thomas frowned.
“You will leave New York.”
Larkin looked at her.
Thomas laughed.
“You think I’m going into exile?”
“No.”
Penelope’s voice remained calm.
“You are going to prison.”
The room changed.
Thomas stared.
Even Larkin looked surprised.
Penelope placed another file on the table.
“Three of your private operations were conducted without syndicate authorization.”
She looked at him.
“They involved federal crimes unrelated to protected organizational business.”
Thomas understood.
“You wouldn’t.”
“I already did.”
His face went white.
“You talked to the FBI?”
“No.”
Penelope smiled faintly.
“I sent anonymous documentation to a federal prosecutor.”
Thomas lunged against the guards.
“You bitch!”
Larkin moved.
Penelope stopped him with one look.
Thomas screamed.
Threatened.
Cursed.
Penelope waited.
When he finally ran out of breath, she said quietly:
“You told me I didn’t understand your world.”
She gathered the files.
“You were right.”
May you like
She looked around the table.
“I improved it.”
