Chapter 6 - JULIAN CROSS IS NOT DEADNobody moved.
I stared at the photograph.
Julian Cross.
Older.
Thinner.
But unmistakable.
The same eyes.
The same cold smile.
I looked at Ethan.
“You said he was dead.”
“I said the world thought he was dead.”
Rachel backed away.
“No.”
The man with the gun smiled.
“You have twenty seconds.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“You understand there are cameras here.”
“No.”
He pointed upward.
“We removed them.”
I looked at Ethan.
He said nothing.
That hurt more than the guns.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“You brought us here anyway.”
“I was trying to get you to the vault.”
“Why?”
“Because Julian wants Caleb to open it.”
The man checked his watch.
“Ten seconds.”
Caleb suddenly pulled at my shirt.
“Daddy.”
I leaned down.
“What?”
“I know where the vault is.”
Rachel stared at him.
“You do?”
Caleb nodded.
“I've seen the door.”
“Where?”
“In the basement.”
My mind raced.
The room beneath our house.
The brass key.
The files.
There had to be another entrance.
I looked at Ethan.
He understood.
“The house.”
He nodded.
“The vault isn't at the warehouse.”
The armed man raised his weapon.
“Enough.”
He stepped forward.
Then a siren sounded outside.
Everyone froze.
Police.
The man's men looked toward the doors.
Daniel smiled for the first time.
“You made one mistake.”
The man turned.
“What?”
“You assumed I came unprepared.”
Daniel pulled out his phone.
“Everything we've discussed in this building has been transmitted live.”
The man swore.
Gunfire erupted.
Ethan tackled Caleb.
Rachel pulled me down.
Glass exploded.
Someone screamed.
We ran.
A side door led to the alley.
We reached the car.
Daniel started the engine.
We drove.
Nobody spoke until we were miles away.
Then Ethan said,
“Julian will go to the house.”
“Why?”
“He knows the vault can only be opened with Caleb's blood.”
I turned toward my son.
He had fallen asleep.
His face looked peaceful.
Too peaceful.
“What happens when he opens it?”
Ethan stared through the windshield.
“Then you learn why Julian spent ten years making sure nobody knew Caleb's real identity.”
Back at home, the front door was open.
Claire was gone.
The basement light was on.
We searched every room.
Nothing.
Then I heard a sound.
A phone ringing.
It came from the hidden room.
I entered.
There was a new photograph on the desk.
Claire.
Alive.
Bound to a chair.
And behind her stood Julian Cross.
Underneath the photograph was a handwritten message.
COME ALONE, THOMAS.
May you like
Then another line.
BRING THE BOY.
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