Chapter 5 - The Locked Vault
Arthur slowly stepped in front of me, using his body to shield me from the attorney's deadly weapon.
He glared at the corrupt lawyer, demanding to know how much Margaret was paying him for this ultimate betrayal.
The attorney laughed softly, stating that twenty million dollars was more than enough to buy his absolute loyalty.
He stepped closer and aggressively snatched the yellow envelope right out of my trembling hands.
He checked the contents quickly, smiling as he confirmed the original blueprints were safely inside.
He then gestured with the gun toward a heavy, reinforced steel door at the back of the archives room.
It was the library’s climate-controlled rare book vault, designed to be completely airtight and fireproof.
The attorney ordered us to walk inside the small, freezing metal room immediately.
Arthur tried to argue, but the attorney cocked the hammer of the gun, threatening to shoot me in the leg.
We slowly backed into the cold vault, the temperature immediately biting at my exposed skin.
The attorney smiled mockingly and told us to enjoy our final, freezing hours together.
He slammed the heavy steel door shut, plunging us back into absolute, terrifying darkness.
We heard the heavy electronic deadbolt slide into place with a loud, definitive click.
Arthur immediately threw his shoulder against the thick metal, but the door did not move a single millimeter.
I leaned against the freezing wall, feeling the absolute crushing weight of complete despair wash over me.
If we died in this vault, Margaret would destroy the blueprints and murder my parents anyway.
Arthur pulled out his phone, but the thick steel walls completely blocked any chance of a cellular signal.
He refused to give up, turning on his phone’s flashlight to frantically search the small, empty room.
He noticed a small, screwed-on metal panel covering the internal electronic wiring of the digital lock.
He looked at me and asked if I had learned anything about wiring from watching my father repair heaters.
I wiped my tears, suddenly remembering the countless hours I spent holding tools for my dad in the garage.
I told Arthur that if we could cross the main power wire with the ground, we could short-circuit the magnetic lock.
Arthur used a small metal coin from his pocket to painstakingly unscrew the tight panel cover.
He pulled out a tangled mess of colored wires, his hands shaking slightly from the dropping temperature.
I guided him carefully, telling him exactly which red and green wires to strip and twist together.
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He forcefully touched the two exposed copper wires together, sending a shower of bright blue sparks into the air.
The heavy magnetic lock suddenly groaned, releasing its grip with a loud, heavy thud.
