The old Quinn Architecture Firm was a limestone relic in the heart of the Financial District. To the world, it was a museum of a dead man's dreams. To Nora, it was the location of the kill switch.
"Thermal scans show two guards at the rear and a private security detail on the penthouse floor," Caspian said, looking at a tablet in the darkened SUV parked three blocks away. "It's not Blackwood. It's the Sterlings. Arthur is desperate. He knows once you access that terminal, the insurance fraud isn't his biggest problem—it's the fact that he's been stealing from the Syndicate to cover his gambling debts."
Nora checked the small, encrypted drive Caspian had given her. "He thinks he's defending his legacy. He doesn't realize he's just sitting on a bomb I'm about to detonate."
They moved through the service tunnels Nora had played in as a child. She knew every ventilation shaft and every "blind spot" in the security cameras. Her father hadn't just taught her how to build; he had taught her how to hide.
They reached the private elevator—the one that opened directly into Alistair Quinn's inner sanctum. Nora's hand hovered over the biometric scanner.
"If I do this, Caspian," she whispered, "there's no going back. The Quinn name will be synonymous with the largest financial collapse in the city's history. I'll be rich, but I'll be the most hated woman in Northport."
Caspian placed his hand over hers, his eyes reflecting the blue light of the scanner. "The people who will hate you are the ones who built their mansions on your silence. Let them hate you. I'll be the only one who matters."
The scanner turned green.
The doors opened into a room frozen in time. Sketches of the Sterling Waterfront littered the mahogany desk. But Nora didn't go to the desk. She walked to the center of the room, to the massive brass model of the city.
She began to move the "buildings" on the model, clicking them into place according to the Ratio of Grace. One-point-six-one-eight. With a heavy, hydraulic hiss, the floor beneath the model slid back, revealing a terminal that looked like it belonged in a high-frequency trading firm. Nora sat down, her fingers flying across the keys.
"Accessing the Quinn Sovereign Trust," she murmured.
Lines of code began to scroll. $500 Million... $1 Billion... $2.4 Billion.
"My god," Caspian breathed, looking at the numbers. "Your father didn't just have a trust. He had the entire city's liquidity under a lock and key."
"And I'm about to turn the key," Nora said.
Suddenly, the lights in the office slammed on.
"I wouldn't press 'Enter' if I were you, Nora," a raspy, shaking voice called out.
Nora froze. Standing at the door was Arthur Sterling. He looked a decade older than he had at the gala. His eyes were bloodshot, and he was holding a heavy-duty detonator in his hand. Behind him, three men with assault rifles leveled their weapons at Caspian.
"Arthur," Nora said, her voice dropping to a deadly chill. "You're late. The feds are already processing Julian."
"Julian is a fool!" Arthur spat. "But I am not. That terminal is rigged, Nora. My father installed a failsafe forty years ago. If you move those funds without my authorization code, this entire building goes up in flames. You, the Ledger, and the Thorne bastard with you."
Nora looked at the screen, then at Arthur. She saw the sweat on his brow. He was bluffing about the failsafe—her father would never have allowed a Sterling to have that kind of control over his work. But the men with the guns? They were very real.
"You won't kill us, Arthur," Caspian said, stepping in front of Nora, his body a human shield. "Because if we die, the encryption on that trust locks forever. You'll be bankrupt, and the Syndicate will skin you alive for losing their money."
"I'd rather be dead than a beggar!" Arthur shrieked, his thumb hovering over the red button.
At that moment, the computer hummed.
Transaction Pending: 100% Transfer to 'Aegis Holding' Authorized.
Nora had already hit the button.
"It's done, Arthur," Nora said, standing up. The blue light of the screen made her look like a vengeful spirit. "The money is gone. The Sterling accounts are empty. And the Syndicate just received an automated alert that you tried to steal their final two billion."
The sound of a heavy helicopter began to rattle the windows.
"That's not the police, Arthur," Caspian said, a dark smirk playing on his lips. "That's the Blackwood 'Board of Directors.' And I don't think they're here to negotiate."
Arthur's face went from rage to pure, unadulterated terror. He looked at the detonator, then at the window where the black silhouette of a military-grade chopper was hovering.
The office window shattered as grappling hooks slammed into the frame. Caspian grabbed Nora, diving behind the reinforced desk just as the first flash-bang grenade exploded in the room. In the chaos of smoke and light, a voice boomed over the helicopter's speaker:
"A.C. Quinn. You have exactly sixty seconds to hand over the Ledger, or we level the building."
Nora looked at Caspian. He reached into his belt and pulled out a second detonator—his own.
"I told you, Nora," Caspian shouted over the roar of the rotors. "I'm the Wall. Now... do you want to see how an Empress exits a burning building?"