Chapter 9 - The Ghost of Elena Romano
The wind outside the chapel screamed through the broken pine boards, throwing needles and leaves against the frosted glass.
Leo sat against a stone pillar, his breathing slower now that Sophie had cleaned and packed his shoulder wound.
"Boss," Leo rasped, looking up from the floor.
"The Syracuse depository is two hours north."
"If Vance has our estate under surveillance, he already has men stationed at every commercial bank within three hundred miles."
"He doesn't have men at Syracuse," Thomas said, shaking his head slowly.
"Why not?" Nico asked, turning to face him.
"Because Syracuse is where his career began," Thomas explained, pointing to the microfilm on the altar.
"That branch went into private receivership twelve years ago."
"It's not a commercial bank anymore."
"It's a private, automated storage vault operated by an offshore trust company."
"There are no tellers."
"No security guards who take city police badges as entry passes."
"You access the boxes using two biometric keys and a six-digit physical cipher."
"What are the keys?" Sophie asked.
Thomas looked directly at Nico, his expression filled with grim sorrow.
"The first key is an iris scan."
"Elena Romano registered that box using her own identity before she fled to the safe house."
"She knew Vance would come after her."
"She set the fail-safe so that only two living people could unlock that vault door."
"Herself..."
Thomas paused, his throat working swallow after swallow.
"...and her natural-born child."
The silence in the chapel was suffocating.
Nico looked down at his own reflection in the polished marble of the altar.
"My eyes," Nico whispered.
"The retinal scan requires the biological line," Thomas nodded.
"The technology was experimental then, imported from a Swiss security firm."
"Vance couldn't open it even if he had the cipher."
"His genetic profile didn't match Elena's maternal registration parameters."
"Only Elena's child can release the locking pins."
Margaret rose from the pew, her hand reaching out until her fingers found the side of Nico’s face.
"Your mother gave you those eyes, Nico."
"She didn't give them to you to hide in shadows."
"She gave them to you so that one day, you could see the truth she was never allowed to live to witness."
Sophie touched the microfilm, her heart heavy with the weight of her mother’s silent struggle.
"My mother spent twenty-four years moving from town to town, waiting for this moment," Sophie said.
"She didn't give me this recipe so I could be a maid."
"She gave it to me so I could bring it home."
Suddenly, the radio receiver on Leo’s tactical vest emitted a sharp, high-pitched squelch.
It was not static.
It was a direct frequency bypass, overriding the unit’s encrypted channel with an unlisted military band.
A voice came through the speaker, crisp, commanding, and terrifyingly calm.
"Nico."
The entire chapel froze.
The voice was deep, cultured, and carried the effortless authority of a man accustomed to having his orders executed without hesitation.
It was Marcus Vance.
Nico reached down, slowly picking up the tactical handset from Leo’s vest.
He keyed the transmission switch with his thumb.
"I'm listening," Nico said, his voice flat, devoid of fear.
A low, chilling laugh echoed through the small speaker.
"You handled Miller's extraction team with surprising efficiency," Vance said from the other end of the line.
"Your father taught you well."
"Salvatore always was good at building fortifications."
"Salvatore Romano was twice the man you will ever be," Nico spat back into the microphone.
"Was he?" Vance asked smoothly.
"Salvatore was a petty criminal who hid behind bribes and corrupted judges."
"He died in a hospital bed surrounded by bodyguards who stole from his safe while his body was still warm."
"I, on the other hand, am about to become the Mayor of this city."
"And in four years, the Governor."
"I don't need bodyguards, Nico."
"I have the law."
"You don't have the law, Vance," Nico replied, his gaze locking onto the split recipe card on the altar.
"You have a badge that's about to be stripped from your chest."
"Is that what the little maid told you?" Vance’s voice took on a sharper, colder edge.
"Sophie Lane is a relic of an old mistake."
"Her mother was a coward who ran from town to town like a dog in the rain."
"And you, Nico..."
May you like
Vance paused, his breath audible over the satellite link.
"...you are my son."
