Chapter 47 - The Red Phone
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I pinned Elias Thorne to the cold steel floor, my knee pressed hard against his chest. I aimed the ceramic pistol directly between his eyes. He was gasping for breath, his wire-rimmed glasses shattered, his billionaire facade entirely stripped away.
"It's over," I breathed, my chest heaving with adrenaline. "Shut down the purge protocol."
Thorne coughed, a bloody, bitter laugh escaping his lips. "You think killing me ends this? I am just the Architect. I built the house. But I don't own it."
"Shut it down!" Irene shouted, running into the vault and aiming her commandeered rifle at his head.
"I can't," Thorne wheezed, his eyes filled with a sudden, genuine terror. "They're coming. The true owners. And they will burn the world to find you."
I pressed the barrel harder against his forehead. "Who is coming?"
Before he could answer, a loud, shrill ringing echoed through the cavernous vault.
It wasn't a cell phone. It was an old, heavy red analog rotary phone sitting on a pedestal in the deepest corner of the vault—a secure line completely off the digital grid.
Thorne's face drained of all color. "Do not answer that," he whispered in sheer panic. "Please, David. If you answer that... they will know you are in the game."
Irene and I exchanged a long, chilling look. The ringing pierced the silence, demanding to be acknowledged.
I kept my pistol aimed at Thorne, but I slowly stood up, walking across the steel floor toward the pedestal. My hand hovered over the heavy red receiver. My heart pounded in my ears like a war drum.
I picked up the phone and brought it to my ear.
"Hello?" I said softly.
There was a moment of heavy static, followed by the sound of classical music playing faintly in the background.
"Congratulations, David," a smooth, chillingly calm European voice spoke on the other end. "You have successfully cleared the board of our incompetent middle management. Elias was becoming... tedious."
"Who is this?" I demanded, my grip tightening on the receiver.
"Oh, we have many names," the voice chuckled softly. "But for now, you may call us The Sovereign. And we would like to invite you and your lovely wife to Paris. Because the real game, Mr. Vance... has only just begun."
May you like
The line went dead with a sharp click.
I slowly lowered the phone, looking out at the sprawling vault of wealth, at Elias Thorne shivering on the floor, and at my wife standing beside me in the dim light. We had survived the Architect, but as the heavy blast doors of the vault began to hiss closed, I realized our war was far from over.
